


Sleepless

by Minque



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Action, Angst, F/M, Humor, Mass Effect 3, No Sex, Poker, Romance, Spoilers, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 22:05:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minque/pseuds/Minque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Insomnia was the stimulus for a relationship that both Shepard and James knew was already doomed by the ticking clock of galactic annihilation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dancing

Another sleepless night. 0400. Two hours until watch changed and Shepard had no hope of falling asleep again before then. Damn nightmares. There were only two ways to soothe her insomnia and frustration at Earth, the Reapers, the Council, everything. One of those ways she didn't want to think too closely about doing with someone on this ship; the other was simply beating it into submission.

Shepard slipped out of bed, pulling on her shorts and zipping up her N7 hoodie over her sports bra. Looks like she'd be spending yet another night with James's punching bag, she thought as she slipped on her shoes. At this rate, she'd have to buy him a new one.

The cargo bay this morning was not the quiet place it usually was. She deflated as she heard the pounding and panting of someone already using the punching bag. They really needed a gym. It was a little ridiculous that a military ship had two observation decks but no gym.

Shepard was about to press the elevator button to go back to her quarters when she heard her name and some unintelligible words framing it.

James.

She couldn't see him, just some hands and the bag swinging on its chain, but after all these months together she knew that voice. On silent feet, she walked to Cortez's usual console, leaning against it and watching the Lieutenant now that she could see him.

He had his broad back half-turned to her, muscles bunched under tattooed skin and sweat dripping off him with each punch or kick. The soldier in her couldn't help critiquing him. Good technique but he compensated for his lack of dexterity with pure power. The woman in her — the one she locked away for fear of doing something ultimately self-destructive again — just found it increasingly distracting to look at him with his shirt off. Hell, sometimes she found it distracting to look at him with his shirt on.

Two months ago she'd dismissed these feelings as being a product of forced togetherness. It wasn't an excuse that worked now. The surreptitious glances lingered, innocent touches became more frequent and their flirting sometimes shifted from playful to heated. She was now grasping for a different reason to explain it away. Too much variety? Impending death? The forbidden? Even when she'd had a good night's rest, she couldn't find a reasonable explanation past the obvious "I want him".

With a final kick to what would be a very unfortunate person's ribs, James stopped, reaching over for his drink bottle and taking a swig before turning. He froze, bottle halfway to his lips and eyes darting from Shepard to the rest of the empty cargo hold. What an odd reaction.

"Lieutenant."

"Lola." He wiped himself down with his towel, his previous cornered look gone and easy grin on his face. "Can't sleep? You know, I can think of a few ways to tire you out."

"How about a dance?" Sometimes it was best to head him off at the pass. Sometimes it was better to head herself off before her imagination kicked in.

James chuckled. They helped each other move training mats from a stack in the corner near crates to the centre of the cargo hold. It was a testament to how easily she'd beaten him before that she didn't shuck her hoodie or shoes when they began. This'd be a good warm up before she took out the rest of her insomnia on the punching bag.

Shepard held her hands in front of her in loose fists, ready to block a punch she couldn't lean away from or counter a take down. James dropped into his boxing stance, hands up and protecting his head, light on the balls of his feet, hips twisted away to present her with as small a target as possible.

His punches were slow, easy for Shepard to duck or step around. The dance was almost lazy. As soon as her muscles were warm she'd finish it.

"Don't drop your shoulder. Fights are lost on bad defence," said Shepard, nodding at how his leading shoulder wasn't pressed up against his face to block incoming blows.

She threw a hook to make her point but James ducked under it, wrapping his arms low around her hips. This was unexpected. The world spun as he lifted her and slammed her to the mat. She wasn't on the battlefield; it was four in the morning and she wasn't prepared for this onslaught. She rolled to her hands and knees, knowing she was putting herself into one of the worst positions to be in, but she was winded and a little dazed. A second to gather herself was all she needed but James wasn't so forgiving.

His weight was heavy on her back, perpendicular to her. He wrapped his legs around her left arm, trapping it, and gripped her right arm in his own. Shit, shit, damn, shit! She knew exactly what he was going to do but it was too late to wriggle out of. He rolled back and she was crucified along his torso, arms spread and back arched as he lifted his hips to crank her neck.

He wouldn't keep up the pressure (she hoped) but if he did it would pop every tendon in her neck. She tapped his leg, conceding victory to him for this submission. It was a flashy move that had just as much chance of failing as it did of success. It was exactly what she would expect from someone as brash as him.

"Getting slow in your old age, Lola." He flashed her perhaps the smuggest grin she had ever seen on another sentient being.

Shepard ignored his hand, an offer to help her up, and flipped to her feet. The show-boater in her wasn't going to let her stand up like a normal person after losing. Plus, he'd called her old. He'd pay for that.

"I'd watch your mouth, if I were you, James." She undid the laces of her shoes and toed them off. "I hate losing. Maybe I won't pull a punch and your pretty face can have another scar."

Shepard stripped off her hoodie and James raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't think you can distract me with some T and A, Lola."

Except it had distracted him. Shepard saw his eyes linger on her chest and bare stomach before trailing down the rest of her. A blush wanted to creep up her cheeks but she pushed it away. She wasn't a damn teenager.

"Actually, seems like it's doing a good job at distracting you." She rolled her head around to get rid of the lingering strain in her neck, a predatory gleam in her eye despite having just lost a round.

James snorted, ears going red the only sign that he was embarrassed to get caught out, and shook his head. "I've seen it all before. Same bits, different shape."

They circled each other, trying to out-stare and out-smirk each other. James feinted a few jabs but Shepard didn't rise to the bait. She continued to smile at him, waiting for him to start actually attacking. He threw a jab cross followed by a kick but Shepard had read his body and simply twirled out of his path. He'd shown his hand in the last round; she had a much better read on him now. Still, wouldn't hurt to put him off balance.

"So, what were you saying about me when you were using the punching bag?" she asked.

"You— what?" His guard dropped a fraction and that cornered look he'd had on before was back, along with a flush to his ears.

Shepard didn't dwell on it. She had her opening. If he wanted to take it to the ground, she'd teach him that weight and strength weren't deciding factors of who won or lost. He'd also learn that the simplest moves were just as effective as the showy ones. She rushed in and grabbed his leg. As he danced back to regain his balance, she moved with him, using his own equilibrium to send him to the mat.

She wrapped himself around the leg she used to drop him. Her heel dug into his hip to keep him from coming up to grab her and turn the tables. With his leg firmly in her grasp and bent against her side, she twisted. The move was simple but effective and highly dangerous. The torque to the ankle transferred up to the knee and, if he didn't tap, it was all too easy to tear the ligaments there.

"Fuck, Shepard!" James slapped her leg and Shepard gave him a shit-eating grin as she let go of his leg and stood.

"You're not a master yet, kid," said Shepard. To add insult to injury, she patted him on the head.

"Best two out of three." James mock scowled as Shepard helped him up. "I'm just getting started."

They took up their positions again, panting heavier than the last two times they'd started a round. The dance was no longer lazy. His eyes were more alert, trying to read her muscles just as her own were reading his. Good, he was learning. Shepard had no intention of losing and being subjected to his taunting again though. When she fought, she fought to win.

Things quickly degenerated. Their blows weren't as soft as they were in the previous rounds. Shepard caught a kick to the ribs. James got two to his inner thigh in quick succession as payback, right above the knee. Her chin hurt where his fist clipped it. He had a swelling lip from a calculated punch.

"Not taking me to the mat anymore, Lola?"

"Not if you're expecting it."

An overhand punch — harder than any of her last — staggered him and she hooked a foot around his ankle, throwing him to the ground over her shoulder. He'd left himself wide open for the mount and Shepard went in for the kill. A trap. He brought a knee up so she couldn't swing a leg over him. The leg wrapped around her waist and tugged her down. She lost her balance and he grabbed her upper arms, swinging her to the mat and rolling on top of her.

He pinned her elbows to the floor beside her and loomed over her. He was smirking. She must be more tired than she thought to fall for such a stupid trick. She tried to buck him off despite knowing he wouldn't budge.

"Tap?" James' voice matched the victorious grin on his face.

"You wish." Her pride was riding on this last match and tapping without a submission hold was like giving up before she'd even started.

Shepard tried to slide her body down so he'd be sitting higher and she'd have more power from her legs to buck him off. He anticipated it and clamped rock-hard thighs around her, heavy on her hips, and she made a small sound of annoyance in her throat.

"I gave you a chance. Now you have to say 'James is the combat master' to get me to let go."

Shepard laughed, breathless from exertion. "Go to hell, James."

"That didn't sound like what I told you to say."

There were a hundred things he could do from this dominant position but the smug bastard seemed more interested in gloating. She twisted underneath him, trying to unbalance him in some way so she'd be able to either buck him off or get a hand free. If she had a free hand he'd be on his back begging for mercy so quickly he wouldn't even have time to take a breath.

"You're going to hurt yourself doing that, Lola." James was serene, almost bored, in the face of Shepard's struggles. Ass.

He wasn't playing fair. That was fine — Shepard knew how to play unfair too. Her biotics flared and before James could understand what was happening she hit him with a small throw field. Really small, just enough to dislodge him. Honest.

With an undignified and very unmanly little sound, he landed ass-first on the floor and Shepard scrambled into mount. She moved to punch him in the face (she had threatened it) but he'd recovered faster than she'd anticipated. Another miscalculation. Damn. He caught her fist in his hand and redirected it away. Shepard fell forward with a surprised yelp as he yanked her hand up over his head. His free arm snaked around her waist and she could feel the shift in his body as he prepared to roll them over.

They froze at the same moment, faces mere breaths away. She could feel his heart racing as fast as hers. She was suddenly acutely aware of things she'd never noticed before. He had another almost invisible scar just under his right eyebrow… there was a strip of stubble on his chin that was lighter than the rest… he smelled of gun oil and Alliance-issue soap underneath the sweat… there was a chip on one of his front teeth… his green eyes were flecked with darker shards of hazel… his fingers were calloused where they pressed against her back.

Shepard's skin erupted in goosebumps as his hand slid up her spine and he pulled her head down for a kiss. She had expected him to be forceful, brutal even, but he was so gentle, teasing her lips with his tongue. She sighed, losing herself in the reality of something she had only imagined before. Her eyes slipped closed and she met his tongue with her own. He tasted of mint and strawberries from his electrolyte-laden drink.

It was stupid, so stupid.

Shepard trailed her fingers down his face and neck, across his shoulders and down his sides. The ridges of muscle moved under her fingers and hitched when she teased a sensitive spot. He dragged his blunt nails down her back in response and she arched into it, a soft moan escaping her.

The sound in her own ears made her eyes snap open and she pulled back, mouth agape. Subordinate. Way too young for her. Galaxy at stake. Death on the horizon. Was this what it felt like to succumb to madness? Because surely that was the only reason she was straddling him, kissing him, and moaning about it. She scrambled off him.

"I think that's enough dancing for today, Lieutenant." She tried to ignore his half-naked body and the look of hurt that passed briefly over his face. "I'm sorry. I was out of line. Just... forget this ever happened."

Shepard turned on her heel and snatched up her jacket and shoes, all but running for the elevator. She tapped the button over and over as if that'd make the doors open and close faster. It was like EDI was purposely making the elevator run slower than normal as Shepard paced the little square. She held onto the urge to ask the AI if she was interfering.

The elevator doors opened to her quarters and she slid out as soon as the crack was big enough for her to slip through. She needed to shower. She needed to sleep. She needed to go to the medbay and ask Dr Chakwas for something that would eradicate her libido. A testosterone-fuelled twenty-something year old was always frisky but Shepard was neither testosterone-fuelled nor twenty-something years old.

Stripping once she reached her bathroom, she turned the shower to scalding hot and hissed as it burned her skin. A thousand reasons for what had happened ran through her head. Tired. Stressed. Adrenaline. Hormones. Forced closeness in the six months he acted as her personal jailer. Looming apocalypse making her jittery. They were all valid reasons for her lapse in judgement, or so she told herself. Best to just forget.

Yeah… easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a repost of a story that I wrote March/April 2012 that was previously on FF.Net just so my profile doesn't look so woefully empty >.> I hope you enjoy it if it's your first time reading it!
> 
> <3 Minque


	2. Days

Five days, nine hours and forty-something minutes. Even now, James could close his eyes and remember what Shepard's bare skin felt like against his hands, how she smelled of sweat and heat sinks and something flowery that was completely out of place for a soldier like her. He remembered her taste, unsullied by toothpaste or lingering flavours, and that breathless little sound she'd made… fuck. He needed a cold shower. Again.

"Feels like we just left the Citadel. Why are we going back so soon?" asked James, trying to shift his focus back to what he was doing. He peered down the barrel of a deconstructed M-27 Shepard had liberated from a crate on Menae yesterday. Moon dust gunked up the inside. It was going to take fucking ages to get the shotgun pristine.

Garrus stood beside him, M-97 clean but apparently with a sight that was just that tiny fraction off-centre. It was the difference between a headshot and a hole in the wall behind the target at a hundred metres. James could understand. James understood a lot about Garrus in the day or so since they'd met, actually. They were men of checkered pasts that they didn't really want to talk about. They bonded over weaponry, Skyllian Five, and more than a few drinks, all in an effort to forget what was happening to the home planets they'd been forced to leave behind. Plus, they worked well together and with Shepard. James soaked up fire, Garrus picked off the ones who tried to flank and Shepard was free to focus on crowd control.

"Restock. And apparently Aria's made Shepard an offer," said Garrus, taking the scope off the sniper rifle and fiddling with it some more. "But Liara says Alenko sent Shepard a message asking her to come see him. That's probably the real reason."

James wasn't very good at reading alien nuances but he thought he detected a hint of distaste in Garrus' rumbling voice. He wondered what the Major had done to get that reaction.

"You don't like Major Alenko, Scars?"

When James had given Garrus the nickname this morning, the turian had flared his mandibles before chuckling. James took it as a sign that his cocksure attitude and complete disregard for propriety didn't land him on Garrus' shit list the way it had on Traynor's. She was still way too nervous about serving on a ship.

"Let's just say that anyone who was with Shepard when we went after the Collectors, doesn't want him on this ship," said Garrus, and James was brought back out of his musings.

"Oh, come on! You have to explain that." James looked up from the barrel, half-shoved-in cleaning cloth forgotten as Garrus gave him just a little tease of Shepard's past.

Garrus looked at him, beady eyes nailing him to the spot and mandibles tight against his face. James didn't know what that look was — warning, questioning, a turian version of a frown. If Shepard was going to have more aliens on the ship, James was going to have to take a crash course in their gestures and expressions.

"He's not good for her focus," Garrus finally said. "EDI should just delete his messages before Shepard has a chance to see them."

"Just because I now have a body, Garrus, doesn't mean I can't hear you," said EDI from the speaker above the weapons bench. James laughed and Garrus' left mandible flickered, perhaps in embarrassment. "Joker suggested the same as you but I have been advised against deleting Major Alenko's messages. Doctor Chakwas believes closure will mend Shepard's heart. I am confused, though. I ran what preliminary diagnostics I could on Shepard but did not find any clear abnormalities with her heart."

There was a beat where James and Garrus looked at each other, both trying hard not to fall over themselves snickering.

"Chakwas was talking about emotions, EDI." Garrus' patient drawl didn't have any laughter in it, although James could at least tell he was hiding a jagged smile.

"Ah. I will file the information away for future reference. Thank you." A pause. "And thank you for not laughing out loud."

James recalled when they were back on Earth, Shepard having been summoned by the Defence Committee while the Major was just exiting the chamber. The surprised but heavy tone of her voice as she said the Major's name, the melancholy smile they gave to each other, the way the Major's eyes lingered on Shepard as she walked away… the fact that the Major said he used to know the Commander. It all made so much more sense now.

"They were together?" James figured he knew the answer.

"When we were going after Saren, yeah." Garrus' voice carried a growling undertone just within James' hearing. The turian way of expressing anger through vocal range, maybe. "Then he called her a traitor when Cerberus brought her back from the dead."

"That's fucked up."

"Apparently dying isn't a good enough reason not to call for two years."

They lapsed into silence.

If Major Alenko was the type of man Shepard was after then James felt seriously under-qualified. Maybe she really did want to forget about their kiss and everything he'd read about her cautious yet still attentive demeanour since then was completely wrong. Damn, but the thought kind of felt like a punch to the gut. Everyone wanted a piece of Commander Shepard, yeah, but he didn't want her just to fetch him some ciphers or fix his moral dilemma.

Not that he quite knew what he wanted.

He went back to focusing on the barrel. It was worse than he thought. The solvent lifted a lot of the grease and dust but not enough to convince him that it wouldn't blow up in his hand if he tried to shoot it. He shoved a clean swatch of cloth down the barrel to dry it and dislodge some more gunk. Another solvent-soaked cloth went down the barrel. Another five minute wait.

Commander Shepard. Lola. He'd admit there was a little bit of hero worship going on but six months of seeing her adrift without many sympathetic ports during her trial had made her actually human to him. So, what did he want? To get laid, sure, but there were easier women to go after. They weren't Shepard though. She was the answer to every problem, an objective arbiter, a sharp shot whose ruthlessness didn't extend to killing innocents. Okay, so there was more than a bit of hero worship going on. But he also knew that she had bouts of despondency and self-doubt; that she found it difficult to sleep after what she'd done to the Batarian colony and now what was happening on Earth; that she was worried about what had happened to her parent's berths; that she made mistakes, especially when she was tired. She might be larger than life but James knew she was only human. She still bled red and didn't want to eat her vegetables and punched things when she was frustrated.

He still didn't know what he wanted from her, only that he wanted.

"Hitting the relay in thirty seconds," came Joker's voice over the comm system.

James went back to cleaning, working alongside Garrus in silence. He had a thousand questions about Shepard that he wanted to ask but kept them to himself. He never was very good at being subtle. Better to stew in silence than get laughed at for an infatuation. After all, that's all it was, right? A crush after he'd gotten a taste. It'd go away.

Five days, ten hours.

* * *

Five days, twenty three hours and twenty minutes, give or take. The pounding music of Purgatory was just the kind of mind-numbing place James needed to be right now. Garrus was right. Shepard had gone straight to the hospital after the Normandy docked. James wasn't sure how he felt about that but his punching bag had gotten one hell of a beating before he decided to drink himself into a stupor. Maybe he'd even find himself a lay… nah, no point making things even messier for himself.

"Hey, look, it's the Commander," said Cortez, nodding his head to the other side of the lower bar.

James turned in his seat, drink still in hand, and craned his neck to watch Shepard take the steps down to the asari who had claimed an entire lounge section to herself. He'd seen others try to go there and be turned away or, in the case of the stupider ones, get beaten before being thrown out of the club. That must be Aria. He'd seen her while he was on Omega, of course, but not this close up. She was hot. Batshit crazy but hot.

Shepard sat, leaning back against the lounge and looking every bit the self-possessed Commander people saw her as. She was listening to Aria talk, face carefully professional, but the asari must have said something that Shepard didn't like as a look of wariness started to tint her expression. From this far away he shouldn't have been able to read her but he could. He'd spent more than enough time watching her over the months, especially when she was trying to hide her thoughts and feelings during her trial.

"Take a picture, Jimmy, it'll last longer."

James turned away from Shepard to glare at Cortez. "Fuck off, Esteban. I was just curious."

"Oh, I know you're curious about the Commander." Cortez's eyebrow shot up, the grin on his face a little too knowing for James's liking.

Goddamn know-it-all, grease monkey pilot. James downed the rest of his drink, standing and managing to sway only just a little bit. He muttered something about getting more drinks and tottered off to the bar. He had to force himself not to turn around and watch Shepard as he waited for the drinks. Cortez would just love that.

When he did turn, though, he saw Shepard sitting beside Cortez. The former pointed at the drinks in James' hand then pointed at herself. The latter had his arms crossed over his chest and was smirking with all the joy of someone who was promised a good show. With a heavy sigh, James turned back to the bar and ordered another drink.

Would it be rude of him to leave? Yeah, probably. Rude and stupid since Shepard would probably think he felt awkward around her now… which he did, sometimes. Cortez would never let him live it down if he ran away either. He'd take on a hundred swarms of husks before giving Cortez ammunition like that. Bite the bullet, marine, he scolded himself as he walked back to the table with the drinks.

"Lola." James handed Shepard one of the drinks before sitting down.

"Lieutenant." Shepard leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as she sipped her drink and looked at the crowd around them.

Cortez was resting back in his chair, out of Shepard's peripheral vision, and started waggling his eyebrows at James with barely contained glee. What was it about romance (especially uncomfortable, one-sided romance) that made otherwise mature people regress to being ten years old again?

"I have to go to the john," said Cortez, breaking the small silence that had blanketed their table.

If James were a woman, he could escape by saying he needed to go too. Women always went to the bathroom in groups. For the first time in his life he heartily wished he was a woman so he could use the excuse. That, and he wanted to be an asshole and blame it on "that time of the month". Oh, and tits. He liked tits.

Tits weren't a good thing to think about around current company, though, and even less so to talk about. He groped around for a subject that didn't have anything to do with tits.

"So. Aria, huh?"

"Yup. Even when she doesn't have her own merc-infested station she's still acts like she's the queen of everything." Shepard took a large gulp of her drink and James was impressed that she didn't even make a face as the strong Salarian alcohol surely burned its way through down her chest. "She wants me to get all the merc bands in her pocket and in return we can use them in the war effort."

"Don't you get tired of doing all the hard work for everyone else?"

"Yes, sometimes."

"But…?"

"But if that's what it takes then I'll do it. There are worse things than just talking to people."

They dropped into silence again.

Five days, twenty three hours, and fiftyish minutes. Where the hell was Cortez? Asshole was probably on the upper floor watching them and thinking what a great laugh this all was. James wasn't sure what he was going do, but he was going to get Cortez back for abandoning him. James wasn't fully in control of his faculties and was very likely to do or say something stupid to Shepard.

Shepard finished her drink and moved to stand. "I should—"

James stood at the same time, hand reaching across the little table to encircle her wrist. Her eyes flickered to his hand before returning to his eyes. He had no doubt that if she wanted to break free, she easily could. That she didn't break his hold was a good sign. The expression on her face was the same one she had on in the moments right before he kissed her, also a good sign. And then it was gone, replaced with a much more platonic expression of confusion mixed with patience.

"Lola—" What? What did he want? What was he going to say? "—wanna dance?"

Shepard's mouth quirked up into a half-smile and James would swear before any of the admirals or all the Gods in the universe that her cheeks were pink and it didn't have anything to do with the strobe lights of the club bouncing off her skin. The little crinkles at the corners of her eyes belied just how amused she was at his invitation. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through his body, but he was also pretty sure that the intense heat from her look when he first grabbed her wrist was still pooled behind those laughing eyes.

"Anyone want another drink?" The question from behind him made James drop Shepard's arm like it was a newly-popped heat sink.

Cortez. If James was a little more dramatic, he'd hiss that name and shake his fist. The pilot had the worst timing in the galaxy. Either that or he was deliberately going out of his way to push James onto the Commander, then take it all away just when the good part was coming up.

"No, thanks. It's almost oh-five-hundred." Shepard pointed up at the stylised clock on the wall. "I better get to bed if I'm supposed to be saving the galaxy."

James watched her turn on her heel and walk off. He knew Cortez was looking at him but, fuck it, he'd already made an ass of himself tonight.

Six days. He needed to stop counting.


	3. Healing

Numb. Angry. Numb and angry. That's how Shepard felt, sitting in the shuttle with Liara and James as they rose through Tuchanka's poisonous atmosphere. The genophage was cured, she'd gotten the support of both the krogan and the turians, but she still felt like she'd lost this battle. The Reapers owed her yet another life and she was going to make sure they paid in full.

The adrenaline from the fight and Wrex's impassioned speech was wearing off. Shepard had soldiered on through the bullet that grazed through the soft weave of the underarmour at her waist when her shields fell; the jarred shoulder she'd gotten when falling a few stories thanks to that goddamn thresher maw; the deep cuts from a husk getting a hold of her when they were swarmed halfway to the maw hammer. She was also pretty sure she'd gotten a concussion when she'd been thrown by the force of the Reaper Destroyer smashing a leg almost on top of her. Thank God for helmets and kinetic barriers or she'd be dead. But now the benefits of adrenaline were wearing off and, apart from the pain starting to flare up, she was feeling light-headed and a headache was creeping up on her.

"It's gonna be a bumpy ride. Strap yourselves in," said Cortez from the pilot's seat. "Normandy pick up in thirty."

Shepard secured her five-point harness but couldn't help the hiss of pain that escaped her in the process. Shit, her shoulder was worse than she'd thought. She saw the concern in Liara's face as she looked up at the asari sitting across from her. Shepard shook her head, giving her a small smile of reassurance. They'd known each other long enough that Liara didn't press, although Shepard did see the asari's gaze flicker to where the emergency medkit was secured to the wall.

James plopped himself into the seat beside Shepard and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from grunting as he jostled her shoulder. Why did he have to take up so much space with his elbows while doing up his harness? It didn't help that his heavy armour bulked him up so he was pretty much as broad as a krogan. Eve and Wrex had taken up two seats each. James had tried to squeeze himself into one.

She was about to suggest he switch seats with Liara when the turbulence started. Shepard was thrown forward in her harness and she clamped her hand over her mouth. Her stomach churned at the sudden jolt and her vision swam. Shit, if she threw up here she'd never live it down.

"You okay, Lola?" Shepard started to nod but another bump rocked the shuttle and she shook her head instead. "Hey, fly a little smoother, Estaban."

"This is the best anyone can do, Jimmy. Five minutes and we'll be out of the worst of it."

Oh, God, five minutes of this. Shepard leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes and focusing on her breathing. She would not throw up, concussion be damned. She gripped a strap of her harness with her good hand, counting as she steadied her breathing. The lurching of the shuttle still made her want to throw up but it was controllable now, so long as she thought of nothing but her breathing. Her head lolled to the side as she sunk into a daze, partly from her focus and partly because her body just wanted to sleep.

"Stay awake." James' hand gripped her thigh and shook her leg.

Shepard opened her eyes with a start. That could've been bad. She smiled her thanks at him and didn't even mind that he kept his hand resting on her thigh. There was armour in between skin. It was fine. Liara didn't seem to even notice, but that didn't really mean anything.

The socially awkward Liara of years ago was not the same woman who was now the Shadow Broker. In some ways, she wasn't all that different either. She was older, more serious, more attentive, but she'd still have those moments where human gestures would stump her or she'd say something wildly inappropriate while only seeing the innocence in the statement.

Shepard missed her squad. She missed Tali and Garrus blabbering about ship specs only to realise a few minutes later that Shepard had no idea what was going on. She missed hanging out in the lounge with Jacob and Kasumi, watching them harmlessly flirt with each other. She missed Legion and his complete misunderstanding of organic beings interspersed with surprisingly insightful comments. She missed sitting around with Zaeed and Jack, all trying to one-up each other's stories while Grunt grinned in delight at listening to so much carnage. She missed Thane and Samara's serene energy. She missed Miranda's icy know-it-all-ism that melted at just the right emotional points. She missed Ashley's frankness. She missed Kaidan's support. She'd just seen Wrex but missed his wry humour anyway. Right now, she missed Mordin's singing and fast-talking genius most of all.

"We're out," said Cortez and Liara and James unclipped their harnesses. "Ten more minutes of ascent then we'll be orbiting in the thermo for about another ten."

The nausea was going away with the smoother trip but she was still tired and aching and her shoulder wouldn't stop making her arm go numb then erupt in pain then numb again. She felt hands at her harness and looked down. She blinked. When had James taken his gloves off? Had she passed out for a few seconds?

"Don't pass out on me now, Lola," said James as he knelt before her. He gripped her chin in her hand and forced her to look at him with hazy eyes. "Where are you hurt?"

"Jarred right shoulder, bullet graze on right waist, torn seals on arms, mild concussion. I'm fine."

Shepard felt his hands working at the releases on her chestpiece. It took her brain a few seconds to process this but when it did all she could think was that she didn't want to be so vulnerable in front of him again while she couldn't think straight. It hadn't gone well for her last time. Actually, it had gone as perfectly as her imagination wanted it to go, and that's what worried her.

"Hey!" She twisted away from his sure hands, grunting and wincing as her vision did its wobbly thing again and her shoulder protested.

"A bit late to get shy, don't you think?" She could hear the exasperation in his voice. "I've already seen you basically in your underwear."

Yes, that was the point. This was not the time to be starting any sort of intimate relationship. For almost three weeks they'd danced around each other, their exchanges part awkward, part intense, and only sometimes part normal. She'd tried to stay professional but would always get pulled into his teasing and then one of them would say something too suggestive that, before, would have made them laugh, and now just made them hurriedly excuse themselves. She didn't know what James did whenever they parted ways like that, but Shepard found herself distracted for the better part of an hour, imagination replaying That Night in the cargo hold and extending it further than was proper. That's when she felt she needed a lobotomy.

Shepard looked up at Liara with a pleading look on her face as James continued his work on her armour. The asari stared right back at her with an inscrutable expression, head cocked to the side in thought, before standing to fetch the medkit. No help there. She'd prefer to have Liara checking her over but even Shepard knew the worst of her injuries was the concussion and it was Chakwas who would have to take a look at that. Everything else could be fixed with the simple Alliance field-medic training all soldiers had undertaken.

"Fuck, did you just stand there and let the baby squid stomp on you?" said James as he dropped pieces of her scratched armour to the shuttle floor. His hands prodded at the deep cuts where husk fingers had ripped through the underarmour.

Shepard's emotions were all over the place from loss and unfocused thoughts and James' proximity. Right now, she didn't appreciate being criticised, facetiously or not. She glared at him and tried to push his immovable bulk away with her good arm.

"Just fix me up. I'm not in the mood for your jokes, Vega."

"And I'm not in the mood for your tough girl bullshit, Shepard."

She was only barely aware of Liara quietly excusing herself and going to stand behind Cortez in the cockpit. Shepard and James glowered at each other. He was getting much too bold. Right when she thought she'd have to actually order him to continue, James turned away and rooted through the medkit. Good. There might be some inappropriate things going on between them but she was still his superior officer and, until they docked with the Normandy, they were still on a mission.

James worked in silence and Shepard let him. The diamond-bladed scissors he'd pulled out of the medkit snipped through the tough material of her underarmour around her cuts. She was going to look like a wreck when she stepped off the shuttle on wobbly legs, only half-armoured and with giant holes in her underarmour. At least she'd be walking, though. She'd have to be dead (again) to be carried off her own shuttle.

Gentle hands soothed Medi-gel over the deeper cuts. Later they would itch as they healed but for now the anaesthetic was starting to sink into her nerve endings. She watched his fingers move over her skin, lingering a little too long after each Medi-gel application. Her eyes trailed up his arm and to his face. He'd been looking at her with an expression that had become increasingly familiar over the past few weeks but dropped his eyes when she made eye contact.

A small furrow deepened between his eyebrows as she continued to gaze at him. She wanted to reach out and soothe it with her fingers. He started to cut a slit up her underarmour sleeve to expose her arm and shoulder. The cool air on her sweaty skin made her hairs stand on end but it wasn't until his knuckles brushed against her neck that she shivered. Traitorous body. This time it was she who looked away when he made eye contact again.

Shepard flopped forward as he did his inspection of the back of her shoulder, her forehead pressed against the cool metal of his shoulder guard. His fingers lightly explored her shoulder for any permanent damage. Despite the tenderness of her shoulder, she couldn't help the trickle of heat that wound its way to her core. She winced as he dug into a particularly sensitive spot and he murmured an apology. The pain from her other injuries had dulled though and she found herself falling into relaxation.

"You smell nice," she said, voice a sleepy drawl.

James snorted. "No, I don't."

"Yeah, you don't, but usually you smell nice."

"Normandy inbound. Rendezvous in two minutes," said Cortez, interrupting what could have quickly turned into another one of their awkward exchanges.

"Stay awake long enough for Chakwas to take a look at you and maybe I'll have a shower just for you."

"Mmm, shower…" She wanted to sleep. Her brain didn't have the safety catch on and her mouth was shooting out every thought that came to her. "Traynor used my shower yesterday."

"Oh? Did you get in with her? Because that would be hot."

Shepard rolled her eyes and sat back in her seat. "Shut up, Lieutenant."

* * *

Shepard lay on her bed, watching the distant stars make their slow march across the skylight. She'd been ordered to rest for forty-eight hours so Chakwas could make sure the concussion really was just mild. That sounded about forty hours too long for Shepard. She felt guilty enough when they'd returned to the ship without also taking so much downtime. Liara and James had their own injuries that needed tending do but both had sacrificed their fair share of Medi-gel to mend Shepard. She hadn't realised until her squadmates had deposited her in the Med Bay and showed Chakwas their own wounds.

As exhausted as she was, Shepard had only managed four hours sleep before waking up again. She'd stared at the fishes in the aquarium, counted how many panels made up her quarters, tried to read reports and got about three minutes in before deciding it strained her eyes too much. If she wasn't injured, she would have tired herself out on James' punching bag — except she was still wary of going down there when there was no guarantee of the place being full of people.

A soft beep at the door and Liara's voice filtered through the comm unit. "Shepard. Can we talk?"

It was the middle of the night. What was Liara doing here? Shepard looked at the clock and frowned. Not the middle of the night, the middle of the day. Her body was screwing with her. She stood from the bed and padded barefoot to the door to open it.

"How did you know I was awake?" Liara just smiled and entered when Shepard motioned for her to come in. "You have the ship bugged, don't you?"

"Not at all," said Liara as she followed Shepard down the stairs into the sunken room and seated herself on the couch. "I have come to an agreement with EDI. Glyph and her are monitoring the crew for any erratic behaviour. The Illusive Man and indoctrination are subtle enemies."

"And?"

"And… I may or may not have access to the ship's surveillance system." Liara gave her a sheepish grin.

Shepard laughed and shook her head. These little moments of humour and camaraderie were what got her through each day.

"Are you okay?" Liara's voice had changed from contrite to concerned.

"Yes. No. Both." Shepard sighed, leaning her head back against the couch and rubbing her face. She was so tired. Physically, definitely, but also emotionally. "I don't like losing and I lost a friend today."

To her credit, Liara didn't spout the usual empty platitudes and Shepard was grateful for it. Liara simply nodded; she understood what it was like to lose friends… to lose family. She just let Shepard talk, like Shepard had let Liara vent after losing Benezia and when she thought she'd lost Feron. Shepard talked about Mordin's moral dilemma over tweaking the genophage, about retiring on the beach to run experiments on seashells, about his damn singing. The weight on her heart hadn't lifted but it was more bearable with every story she told.

"You know, Mordin thought Garrus and I had something going on and gave us a bunch of vids and pamphlets about inter-species mating. He was so bad at reading social cues." Shepard chuckled, a bitter sound that almost sounded like a sob.

She'd tried to cry for Mordin earlier but she hadn't been able to. She'd squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to sting the backs of her eyeballs. She'd drank water in the irrational thought that maybe she didn't have the water to spare for tears. She'd replayed Mordin's last words in her head over and over again. Nothing. Her emotional dam walls were too thick after years of losing people but still having to be a leader. She was a soldier. People died. Mourn silently and move on.

Liara didn't break the silence but she did reach out to take Shepard's hand in her own. Shepard stared at the blue hand, so like her own, and twined her fingers with Liara's. It was comforting to simply touch someone. They were all in the same fight together; they were all taking the blows and trying to stay standing. She gave Liara a wan smile but it fell from her face when she looked away again.

"Who ever thought the turians and krogan would get along, huh?" Admiral Hackett's dry observation of the newfound cooperation between the two races still rang in her head. "There's hope for the galaxy yet, I know, but hope is for morale. You win wars with big goddamn guns and the only real weapon we have is one we don't even know how to use."

"We'll get there, Shepard." Liara squeezed Shepard's hand tight, voice holding the conviction of the entire galaxy that Shepard, her crew, the people building the Crucible, and all the people fighting the small wars would come out victorious. "The Crucible can't stay a mystery forever and you're buying us time."

This time Shepard's little smile wasn't just a token gesture. She was lucky to have friends such as this. "Thanks, Liara."

"You've always been there for me, Shepard. It would be remiss of me to not return the favour." With a final squeeze, Liara let go of Shepard's hand. Shepard found herself missing the contact. "The Lieutenant did an admiral job on your injuries, I see."

Shepard looked down at the cuts on her arms. They weren't that well done. Medi-gel was smeared all the way around the cuts, making her skin pucker, and on one of the deeper ones he hadn't even done the bandaging properly. Shepard could have done a better job herself one-handed. She raised an eyebrow at Liara and caught the patient, curious and oddly shrewd look on the asari's face. Oh, God, this was about James' medical non-prowess just about as much as, on Mars, Liara's comment about Kaidan's abilities was about his professional development. After getting used to Liara being completely ignorant of the nuances of romantic relationships, Shepard found it damn uncomfortable to be seen through so easily.

"If you have surveillance of the entire ship, have you—"

"Yes."

"Did anyone el—"

"Doubtful."

Thank God for small miracles. "We're keeping it professional. He's a subordinate and there are regs."

"Of course." Despite the neutral tone and guileless expression, Shepard had a feeling that Liara was being entirely sarcastic. After all, Liara was there when Shepard had broken regs last time.

Great. Just great.


	4. Jealousy

Major Kaidan Alenko. Spectre Kaidan Alenko, rather, but James was inclined to just call him Major. Weeks ago, when they first left Earth and headed for Mars, James was ambivalent about the man. Now, he thoroughly disliked him, and for no other reason than that he was no longer far-away competition. He was right-here competition. Although, James was probably the only one who knew that there was a competition at all.

His entire predicament was a little ridiculous when he really sat down and thought about it. The galaxy was crumbling around them, the disparate races still reluctant to fully cooperate with each other, and his biggest problem seemed to be that he couldn't openly piss on what he considered to be his territory. Shepard would probably deck him if she knew James thought like that at all.

The day Shepard allowed Alenko back onto the ship was burned into his brain. He shouldn't have listened but he was a nosy bastard and leaned against a wall, out of sight, when he saw them talking. He'd wanted Shepard to tell Alenko to take a long walk off a short dock but, just as she'd lowered her gun during the tense confrontation over Councillor Udina, Shepard caved to Alenko again.

He could still remember every word of their exchange but one line in particular riled him up so much he almost interrupted them. "Not every day you have a standoff with someone you love." What the fuck was that? You couldn't just throw around words like that. Shepard didn't respond to the "love" comment but James couldn't help feeling like he'd been led on by her these past weeks. He already felt like that kid who sat by himself at lunch, compared to the rest of Shepard's squad. Now he felt like that lonely kid who found out his only friend was just an asshole who was feeding information to the cool kids on how to really hurt him.

He couldn't even justify why he felt like that in the first place. They'd had one brief (but very, very hot) kiss — which they still hadn't talked about — and some flirtation afterward that never went past touches that could have been passed off as completely innocent. He was just as hesitant as Shepard seemed to be to try to work out what was going on between them, which was fine until Alenko joined up. Now, James wanted to know whether he was wasting his time.

He sat in sullen silence, for once actually resenting the fact that Shepard had brought him along on a mission. He kept his eyes on the floor, grunting something unintelligible at the question Shepard directed at him. There was a pause after that little exchange and he liked to think Shepard was a little hurt at his aloofness. Served her right.

She went back to talking (arguing?) with Alenko about picking up the Cerberus scientists and James went back to trying not to listen to them.

* * *

The fighting on Gellix was tougher than James had thought it would be. After the attempted coup on the Citadel he was more than used to fighting Cerberus but he was also used to having Garrus on the team. Alenko was a damn good biotic (and James hated to admit that at all) but the dynamics of the squad felt off. James had to take point, drawing fire in close quarters, while Shepard and Alenko hung back and used their biotics. It was effective but James would be lying if he said he preferred being on point rather than being on Shepard's six.

The scientists and their families were rushing to their shuttles with as much science-y stuff as they could carry. James sat on a crate amidst the rush, checking his M-27 over. The kickback was shit after he took off the smart choke in favour of the shredder mod. He should have tested it more before bringing it into the field.

He could see Shepard in his peripherals, talking to that Cerberus guy (Jason? Jackson? Jacob? Whatever…) again, the one who'd gotten himself shot. It was his own fault. Seriously, who didn't wear armour to a fight? Cerberus hired some really dumb people. Except for Shepard, but she always maintained she didn't work for Cerberus and he wholeheartedly believed her.

"Do you have a problem with me, Lieutenant?"

James looked up from his ministrations at the interruption. Alenko stood above him with his arms crossed over his chest and an unreadable expression on his face.

It was supremely foolish and dangerous of him (not to mention insubordinate), but James had deliberately ignored any commands given to him by the Major. Only when Shepard repeated them did he do what he was told. Actually, that wasn't true. He'd done a couple things the Major told him to, but that was because it had to do with not getting his head blown off by a sniper. He would have happily let Alenko get his head blown off by a sniper, though.

"You don't—" deserve her. James cut himself short before he could blurt it out. This wasn't the time or place for such a conversation. Besides, he didn't know if the Major didn't deserve her. He didn't really know anything about their past relationship and how serious it was, which was eating him up inside. "No, sir, no problem. Comm unit was just fucking up, like I said. You should get someone to look at yours. Wouldn't want you to get killed because I couldn't hear you calling for help or something."

He smirked up at the Major, who frowned down at him. What did Shepard even see in this guy? He was so serious about everything.

"Carry on, Lieutenant."

What an ass! James picked up his shotgun and lined up a shot at Alenko's retreating back. The safety was on, no harm, but Shepard walked up just then and caught him. She looked from James to Alenko then back at James and gave him a cautioning look.

"Jeez, just checking the sight, Lola," said James, standing and holding his shotgun at his side.

She glared at him for a few more seconds and James fought the urge to shift nervously from one foot to the other. He always felt like a ten year old when she turned that look on him and, if he were honest, he was acting about that age too. If they weren't so short of able-bodied men to fend off Cerberus troops, he was sure she would have sent him back to the shuttle by now.

"The scientists are almost ready but it's given Cerberus time to regroup. Expect heavy resistance." James watched Shepard's mouth move and wondered how much madder she'd be if he just kissed her right then and there. "Are you going to continue with your insubordination?"

James shrugged, tearing his gaze away from her mouth and up to her eyes. "Hey, it's not my comm unit that's broken. It's his. If he dies because he can't check his shit before we leave, it's not my fault."

Her hand clenched into a fist and he could tell she wanted to punch him. Every line of his body dared her to. He was ashamed to admit it, but he did flinch when she reached for his head and pulled the comm unit from around his ear. She ripped her own out and shoved it into his hand.

"Here, mine works fine." Her voice changed from merely annoyed to downright angry. "I have a feeling I'll find this one miraculously functions again when I use it."

James hooked the comm unit up to the battery in his suit and secured it to his ear, eyes on the ground and sour look on his face. She always managed to catch him out.

Ah, who was he kidding? He ignored Alenko's orders only when it was relatively safe to. More than once there had been an opportunity for the Major to get shot or at least seriously injured and every time James had prevented it by taking a well-aimed shot or yelling a warning at the Major through his comm unit. James could be an asshole but he wasn't Illusive Man levels of asshole.

The first shuttle launched and it looked like it'd be a relatively smooth run when the ground shook and the windows shattered as Cerberus troops stormed the compound from above. James rolled into cover, taking a shot at a trooper who landed too close to his position. Where the hell were Shepard and Alenko?

"Get to the shuttle bay! Protect the transports!" he heard Shepard's voice over the comm unit and Alenko's affirmative follow on the order's heels.

With a string of curses, James ran from cover to cover, shooting as he sprinted down the stairs towards the shuttle bay. He stumbled as a concussive shot almost took out his shields and turned, aiming at the one trooper left on the upper level. The shot wasn't perfect but the incendiary ammo stuck to the armour and the trooper panicked, patting himself as the fire ate through the ablative coating. James took another shot and it pierced through the helmet of the trooper. Scoped and dropped, as Garrus would say.

By the time he'd gotten to the shuttle bay, the handful of Cerberus troops down there were dead or dying but as the doors to the bay open, bullets rained in on them, bouncing off the evacuating shuttles and ricocheting at all angles. Staying inside the shuttle bay was a looking a hell of a lot more dangerous than being outside in the thick of things.

"James, take point, we'll cover you. Push to the landing pad. Kaidan, right flank. And overload that damn shield pylon!"

Fucking point. James dashed forward, intending to take cover to his right when Kaidan warned him to stay away from the shield pylon. He abruptly turned to the left, sliding behind cover as shots from the landing pads to their right and left warped his shields.

Their progress was slower than he would have liked, Alenko and Shepard pulling or throwing those on the upper landing pads to keep them from halting their progress altogether. James' back still hurt from the concussive shot but he ignored it, adrenaline pumping through his system as he put all his weight into a vicious shotgun-butt to the helmet of a Cerberus trooper. The visor cracked under the force and James shot two rounds into the trooper's chest.

He vaulted over a crate and hunkered down, unclipping his rifle from his back and popping up to lay down covering fire as Shepard and Alenko found new cover. The landing pad was just up these stairs. Almost home free.

"Atlas!" James didn't know if it was him or Alenko who had shouted it first.

Not for the first time did James regret not having Garrus here. He could have shattered the glass protecting the cockpit and taken out the soldier at the controls. He lobbed a frag grenade out of cover and saw Shepard throw her cluster grenades too. The force of the grenades so close almost toppled him over and, across the small gap between their covers, he saw both Alenko's shield and barrier shimmer and waver.

He looked away from the Major and saw Shepard lean out of cover with her biotics flaring and send a shockwave at the Atlas. It staggered back at the force of it and James popped out of cover again, shotgun in hand instead of the assault rifle, backpedalling to find safer cover while he emptied his clip at the Atlas.

The trooper at the control seemed more interested in taking out Shepard than shooting at the person out in the open. Alenko seemed to notice too and a cryo blast left his omnitool, the super-cooled subatomic particles snap-freezing the Atlas' joints. But the Atlas already had its rocket launcher up and aimed at Shepard's cover. James sprinted toward her, tackling her and skidding across the ground with her in his arms. The crate she was hiding behind exploded.

James scrambled upright, throwing all of his frag grenades at the Atlas now that it couldn't move its joints. The onslaught of gunfire, biotics and grenades did its job and James was pulled to the ground by Shepard's hands as the Atlas exploded.

When he looked at her, she had an expression on her face that he hadn't seen before. There was gratefulness there but also a whole host of other emotions that weren't really a good thing to dwell on right now.

"You're welcome, Lola."

Shepard frowned at him and James knew he'd broken the moment.

"Get to the shuttle," she said, pistol in hand as she jumped over cover and ran for the landing pad, where Alenko was already waiting.

Cerberus troops streamed out of the shuttle bay, another Atlas dropped from the sky. Why the fuck did Cerberus have so many soldiers? He scrambled into the shuttle after a sprint that made his legs burn. He turned and saw Shepard get knocked down by a blast that almost hit her. He wanted to scramble back out to help her but Alenko put his hand on James' chest, stopping him from jumping from the shuttle.

"Cover fire." Kaidan raised his own rifle as the scientist woman helped Shepard back onto the shuttle.

With an angry grunt, James lifted his rifle and took out his aggression on the troops who were stupid enough to run up the stairs to the landing pad. The shuttle doors closed behind Jacob as he jumped into the shuttle and James went to sit down, fuming.

What the fuck was that? He wanted to punch the Major for stopping him from jumping out. He would have gotten back to the shuttle with Shepard faster than the scientist.

As soon as the shuttle doors opened once they docked on the Normandy, James jumped out, walking straight to the weapons bench to deposit his shotgun and rifle. He turned to look back at the shuttle and saw Alenko with his hand on Shepard's arm, standing close to her and talking. Did he have to be that close to talk to someone? James couldn't read lips but when Shepard looked over at James he knew that their conversation must have been about him.

Spinning on his heel, he walked to the elevator. Shepard was calling his name but he ignored it, stepping into the elevator. James turned and watched as she stormed toward him. He pressed the button to close the doors, crossing his arms over his chest in challenge for her to try and stop him from leaving. The doors closed and for a fraction of second he thought he'd won. Then they opened again and Shepard was standing on the other side of them, angrier than she was when she first stomped her way toward him. This was beginning to look like a bad idea.

"Thank you, EDI."

"You're welcome, Shepard."

Damn AI.

Shepard stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to close the doors behind her. To say she was furious was a gross understatement but James was a marine, dammit, and didn't back down from her glare.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, ma'am. Just tired."

"EDI, stop the elevator."

The elevator jerked to a standstill.

"You don't answer questions directed at you by your CO, you storm off like a child without being dismissed, you almost start shit in the middle of a mission by ignoring orders from Kaidan, a superior offi—"

James couldn't help clenching his jaw and the flash of annoyance and jealousy that crossed his face. Not "the Major" or "Alenko" but "Kaidan".

"You've got to be shitting me," said Shepard, correctly reading his expression. She stepped forward, gripping the neck of his chestpiece and yanking him down to her eye-level. "You will not bring personal feelings with you on a mission again, Lieutenant, or I will confine you to the ship indefinitely."

She was standing so close, her breath washing over him and her aura enveloping him. Goddamn, she was beautiful when she was angry, all fire and flushed cheeks. What little self-control James had left completely evaporated. He pulled her to him, hands fisted in her hair, and kissed her with all the desperation and frustration and pure want that had been raging inside him for the past few weeks, no, months. Their armour clanked together as he pressed her against the elevator wall and he felt her hands come up to grip his hips but she didn't push him away.

Unlike last time, she was the one to open her mouth first and deepen the kiss. That was all the encouragement he needed. His hands left her hair, grabbing her rear and hiking her up so she'd have to wrap her legs around his waist. Fuck, she still smelled the same and tasted the same and made that breathless little sound of surprise and desire. His groin ached and he would have traded anything in the galaxy for there to be nothing in between his skin and hers.

He trailed his lips across her jawline to where the smooth skin of her neck met her jaw and bit down, hard. Her yelp of pain morphed into the most decadent moan as he laved the bite with his tongue. A shudder ran through her body and she gasped his name as he scraped his teeth against the sensitive flesh. He'd have to remember just how responsive she became when attention was paid to her neck.

"Do you feel better now that you've marked your territory?" Contrary to the sound of pleasure she'd made just moments ago, her voice was dangerously frosty.

James pulled away, speechless, and Shepard dropped back down to her feet. He thought this was headed somewhere awesome but the expression on her face told him he had exactly ten seconds to get out of her sight.

"EDI, deposit the Lieutenant on the Crew Deck. He'll need all the sleep he can get since he'll be on mess duty for the next few days for insubordination whilst on a mission."

Fuck.


	5. Ultimatum

Shepard didn't like being blind-sided but James had done just that. She should have seen this coming but she was too arrogant and childish to try and nip it in the bud. Her own guilty attraction was one thing but encouraging his was pure idiocy.

Leaning her head back against the wall of her shower, she let the hot water cascade down her frame. She tried to ignore her arousal and hypersensitivity, to focus on her anger at both her and James for their wholly unprofessional behaviour, but every time she thought of him her mind would dive into the gutter. She was a bad woman, an awful woman, but she couldn't keep her hands from sliding down her body. Instead of her own fingers, she imagined they were his calloused ones. Waves of pleasure soon racked her body as she sated herself, his name on her lips.

Ah, shit. Her moment of weakness hit her hard.

She knew where this path took her. She'd followed it three years ago and it had ended in nothing but misery and mistrust. A hopeful part of her mind said this time would be different. This time she was older and wiser. This time there was already a ticking clock so they could be as honest as they wanted to be with each other. The cynical part of her mind told her to have him just once because it was merely physical. Her conscience was surprisingly silent, which was bad as it was the one who liked to chime in about consequences and emotions.

The situation was spiralling out of her control and Shepard didn't like things on her ship that she couldn't control.

Shutting off the water, Shepard hurriedly dried and dressed herself. Hackett was likely waiting for her report and she was damned hungry after taxing her biotics for the past few hours. Clean (at least physically) and once again dressed in her blues, she left her room only to find Kaidan on the other side of her door, stepping off the elevator. He had the worst timing.

He smiled in greeting but it slid from his face as he saw the mark on her neck. His probing frown dawned into comprehension of what exactly he was looking at. She didn't know whether he had noticed her unmarked neck on the mission, but if he had, then he probably had a good idea of whom the mark came from. This was not what she needed in her life right now.

"Don't even start with me, Kaidan," said Shepard before he could say something.

"I just wanted to talk. We haven't really had a chance to since I came aboard." His eyes slipped from hers to the mark on her neck again. His face was inscrutable. It bothered her that she couldn't read him as well as she used to.

"If it has anything to do with this—" she gestured to the mark on her neck, "—or what's left of us, I don't have the time or clarity of mind to discuss it right now."

"Oh, okay." She could at least tell he was taken aback at her standoffish tone of voice and posture. "We can talk later."

Shepard was not one to run away from problems. Problems were just challenges and Commander Shepard could overcome any challenge. Still, she felt the overwhelming desire to run away from this one. When had she become such a coward? She tugged the collar of her uniform up higher even though she already knew it wouldn't cover the mark.

The elevator doors opened again after Kaidan pushed the button and they stepped in, standing side by side. Shepard stood at parade rest, which Kaidan mimicked, but she could see in her peripherals that his head was turned slightly toward her and his eyes were still on the mark. He had that unreadable look on his face again. She took one step back so he couldn't easily watch her anymore.

"Stop staring, Major."

"You asked me not to talk to you about it right now so I'm not going to press but you have a damn hickey on your neck like you're in high school again, Shepard." There was exasperation in his voice and she could see how tense his shoulders were as he spoke. "Everyone is going to stare."

"But I don't have unresolved history with them," she said, voice tight. The elevator doors opened on the CIC and she marched off toward the Comm Room without another word.

* * *

For the two days they'd spent hitting relays from Arrae to the Far Rim and then the Perseus Veil, she had managed to avoid both James and Kaidan. It hadn't been easy. All of her time was spent in her quarters, the CIC or the War Room with Tali. After not showing her face in the mess that first night, Liara had come up with a tray of food and that all-knowing look. She'd probably had the elevator bugged, which only made Shepard want to bury herself in her pillow and suffocate herself. Apparently this was not the way Commander Shepard should be acting though and on the third night, Liara had dropped by just to say she wasn't going to bring Shepard food anymore.

So it was at three in the morning, stomach rumbling and insomnia again not allowing her to sleep, Shepard snuck down to the mess. She felt like an idiot skulking around her own ship. Rounding the corner after leaving the elevator, she was greeted by the sight of James at the stove. She could turn around now and go back to bed hungry or she could face up to her problems (correction, challenges) and just sit down.

The choice was made for her as James turned to reach for seasonings and saw her. Dropping his spatula into the frypan, he snapped off a textbook salute.

"Commander."

Seeing him actually follow protocol made her raise her eyebrow at him in amusement and just a bit of astonishment. Two days had tempered her fury at him but that gesture and the nervous way his eyes flickered to her face and then to a spot about six inches behind her ear was adorably out of character and made her want to laugh.

"At ease, Lieutenant."

"Want some?" he asked, pointing at whatever he was cooking. "Huevos rancheros. Eggs, basically. Except the tortilla is actually just bread and there's no beans or guacamole. And the salsa had to be made from reconstituted stuff. Your kitchen stock is crap."

When Shepard had assigned James to the mess she didn't know he could cook. For the most part he used the reconstituted rations but he always managed to make it taste good by adding God knows what. Even if she wasn't famished, she would have enthusiastically nodded and come to stand on the opposite side of the counter island to him. He went back to cooking and she bent over to rest her elbows on the counter. This felt almost domestic, which simultaneously made her want to snicker and run away before she got too comfortable. She wondered if any of the crew had bought James a frilly pink apron yet the way her Cerberus crew had for Gardner when he finally started making decent food.

He plated the food and set it down on the counter between them, getting out two sets of eating utensils and handing one to her. Shepard hesitated about sharing a plate of food with him but then her stomach growled and she dug in.

"Holy shit, this is awesome," she said after a little taste.

"If you tasted my abuela's you'd swear you were in heaven."

"Your what?"

"My grandma."

"Oh."

Spanish lesson over, Shepard went back to shovelling as much of the food into her mouth as possible. It was spicier than the food she was used to but the tang of the salsa and the richness of the eggs all balanced out by the base note of bread made her wish she really could just inhale food. If he could make this with whatever rations were on board she could only imagine what he could do with fresh stuff.

"I swear, when we go to the Citadel after dealing with the Geth and Quarians, I'm going to stock the kitchen with whatever you want as long as you cook for me." She spoke around a mouthful of food, completely forgetting her manners in her delicious-food-induced stupor.

James chuckled and they went back to eating in silence. She was getting through the food faster than he was, her biotics-hastened metabolism making her regularly eat enough food for two people her size. James cleared his throat and Shepard looked up at him, mouth full of food. It was probably really unattractive.

"Look, Shepard, I just want to apologise for being a dick on the mission and… after." His eyes went straight to the mark that was still visible on her neck. She tried very hard not to touch it. "I was out of line. If it was me, I would have kicked my insubordinate ass off this ship."

This was new. Shepard had always known him to be completely unapologetic for his informal behaviour. She wondered what had brought about this change of heart but decided not to ask. He'd probably deflect her question with a joking answer anyway. So long as he continued to show a little more deference then whatever was going on between them could be put on the back burner until she got her own thoughts figured out.

"Not going to lie, I seriously contemplated dropping you off somewhere, James." His eyes dropped to the counter and he fidgeted with his fork. "But you're a good soldier and I need all the help I can get."

"And you think I'm cute." Shepard pursed her lips at James' little grin and it fell from his face. "Sorry, Commander."

She gave him her stern look for a little longer before taking pity on his unease. She never thought she'd live to see the day where James made a genuine apology and for that little show of maturity and humility, she flashed him a reassuring smile.

"So, have you heard anything about your uncle?" Shepard asked as she went through what was left of the food with a little less ravenous gusto.

"No. I was going to go put his picture on that wall on the Citadel but… I can't. I still think that he might be alive and is fighting with the resistance." Hope sprung eternal and Shepard knew the value of things like hope when they were in the middle of an unwinnable war. He gestured at her with his fork. "What about your parents?"

"Nothing." She shook her head then gave him a smile that let him know she too was in the same position of worry mixed with desperate hope. "I'm not putting their pictures up yet either."

This was normal, calming. Throughout her incarceration, James had been the one constant in her life. Anderson wasn't always around to chat with. None of her old squad had been given clearance to come see her. Liara was possibly the only one who could have gotten around all the red tape. Well, her and Kaidan, but, as far as she knew, he didn't even try.

A small smile crept onto her lips as she remembered all the little moments that had helped her keep her sanity. The first time they'd met in the brig, James had taken off her manacles and she'd told him he had balls. He told her that if she tried to escape he could just sit on her because she was so small. She wasn't small but she laughed anyway. On sleepless nights on their way to Earth, he'd played Skyllian Five with her and even let her win a few hands. For her birthday, he'd smuggled in a bottle of port and a cake. He'd brought her books, the classics, and once even brought in Tennyson, which almost made her break down. She couldn't remember when she'd told him about her reading habits but apparently he had remembered.

"What are you smiling about, Lola?"

"Memories."

"They must be good ones."

"They are." Her smile was soft, matching her wistful tone of voice.

With that quiet exchange, the atmosphere changed from melancholy joking to something entirely more serious. James leaned over the counter, hand reaching out to touch her face. His touch was feather-light, thumb tracing her cheekbone. There was a hunger in his eyes but it was outweighed by something she'd seen before, in Kaidan's eyes when they'd first started to bend Alliance regs. It was then her conscience chimed in and said this was most definitely not simply about physical satisfaction.

"Shepard, I need to know if we—"

"I have a lot of stuff to work out before I can start anything with anyone — if I can start anything at all." She wasn't a mind-reader but it was fairly obvious where this conversation was headed.

"Because the mission comes first?" He looked mildly hurt and more than a little disappointed but none of that emotion came through in the steadiness of his voice.

"Everyone knows I bleed Alliance blue but it's not about the job." She stood up straight, breaking contact with him, but her skin tingled where he'd been touching it and her body wanted to have his hand back. "It's about responsibility. About having intangible things like hope and confidence tacked on to you and knowing that your life is no longer wholly yours. Would you be happy with only half of me? Maybe less?"

"Yes." The wholehearted conviction behind that one word took her by surprise. "We spent every single day together for six months where pretty much all we got to do was talk. I might not know every detail of your past but I know you, Shepard. I know what I'm getting into. Sure, everyone looks up to you for guidance or whatever but are you sure that, in this case, it's not just an excuse to make sure you don't get hurt again? I'm not the one who doubted your word."

If she wasn't already shocked by his simple one-word answer to her question, she was positively dumbstruck now. She opened her mouth to reply but she didn't even know what to say in the face of that. Earlier, she'd facetiously asked herself when she'd become a coward but she never actually saw herself as one until he put it that way. Was that all it really was? Was she simply too scared to put herself out there again? She guessed it was Garrus who had spilled on her past relationship with Kaidan but James was there on Mars, he'd heard Kaidan's constant questioning of her loyalty first hand and her own tired and cracked voice explaining her position to him once again. She'd be lying if she said Kaidan's mistrust hadn't cut her deeply but… she was Commander Shepard. She was a soldier, she could compartmentalise. God, was she believing her own hype?

When she didn't reply, he sighed and turned to walk off, saying, "You need time, I'll give you time. Just don't take forever."

She watched his retreating back until he rounded the corner. The elevator door swished open and a few seconds later the elevator rumbled in movement. He was going to the punching bag, like he always did when he had to get his frustration out, just like she tended to do. She propped her elbows on the counter, sighing and closing her eyes as she dropped her head into her palms.

This was supposed to be a military ship but somehow the Normandy was turning more and more into a cruise liner for broken people intent on getting it on with each other. Or maybe it was just her and her inability to sometimes separate the personal from the professional when someone managed to get under her skin.

When Shepard looked up again she saw Kaidan, leaning against the wall with his arms over his chest and that damn unreadable look on his face again. He really had the worst timing.


	6. Almost

Kaidan hadn't meant to listen but he did. Leaving the Starboard Observation, he was in a good mood after hearing his students were safe and fighting the good fight but his cheerfulness vanished when he recognised the voices from around the corner. The reassurances, whatever smiles Shepard was giving Vega, the shared camaraderie in the middle of the night — they were all things he remembered from their days chasing Saren.

The dull ache that usually accompanied thinking of what he'd lost became acute as he heard first-hand the reality of Shepard possibly moving on.

The minutes passed by but he couldn't tear himself away, even when their talk turned into something wholly more private and personal. He knew this dance, only last time Shepard was the one pressing him to overcome his wariness at being so close to someone he couldn't easily escape if things fell apart.

"I'm not the one who doubted your word." Vega's voice was indignant and Kaidan knew that it was a jab at himself.

Losing Shepard had ruined him. He hadn't turned to alcoholism or promiscuity to try and forget her, he'd thrown himself into his work until he was too exhausted to keep his eyes open. Then he would dream and it would be full of her scent and her taste and her laughter and when he woke up he would roll over and wish he were dead too. It was overly dramatic for someone like him but he couldn't help the feeling that she had taken a colossal chunk of his soul with her when she died.

Two years of this and he had only just managed a veneer of normalcy before reports of sightings came in and she finally showed up on Horizon. Since they first met, she had the uncanny ability to turn his life upside down just when he thought he understood what his life was all about. He wished he could have believed her on Horizon. He wished he could have believed her on Mars. He wished he hadn't pulled his gun on her on the Citadel. But the years she'd been away had instilled in him a healthy dose of cynicism and mistrust. It angered him whenever he realised he could no longer automatically see the good in people like he used to.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his internal monologue and Vega didn't even seem to see Kaidan as he stabbed the elevator button. Vega leaned his head against the elevator, eyes closed and shoulders slumped forward. It was the posture of a man who found himself lost in a situation he couldn't control but didn't want to break away from. Kaidan knew that feeling.

With Vega gone, he rounded the corner and saw Shepard slouched over the counter. If it had been any other woman, Kaidan would expect them to be crying. Shepard didn't cry in public, though, and no matter how much she'd changed, he didn't think that trait ever would.

He leaned against a wall, waiting for her to file away her thoughts and emotions for perusal later. Sure enough, when she looked up her eyes were dry and her expression had no turmoil or sadness to it.

"Is he right?" she asked, expression guarded but her voice tense.

Kaidan was taken by surprise that she simply assumed he had listened. Once upon a time, when he'd pulled her away from eavesdropping on an intimate call between Garrus and his sister, she had laughed at his courtesy. Of course he'd listened this time (surely anyone in his position would have?) but it disappointed him that she thought so little of his manners these days.

"I don't know. I never know what you're thinking anymore, Shepard. Is he?"

He stood opposite her, counter between them, and his eyes flickered down to the empty plate. One plate, two sets of utensils; such a small action but so intimate it made him frown. Evidently Vega didn't know just how much Shepard could eat in a sitting though. He tried not to feel that he had gained a point on the "knowing Shepard" scoreboard.

Shepard chewed her lip, eyes dropping to the counter, and Kaidan let the silence drag on. She already knew he wanted to talk and he thought she had a good idea of what he wanted to talk about. Kaidan didn't like leaving loose ends. That was one thing that hadn't changed over the years.

"When I was brought back I felt like the attack on the Normandy was yesterday so I didn't feel like I'd changed a bit." She sounded tired and frustrated. Kaidan wanted to reach out for her but stayed his hand. "Two years is a long time but it's two years I didn't live and I won't apologise for that."

Kaidan didn't want her to apologise for dying. That was ridiculous. He wanted her to figure out her thoughts and feelings. He wanted to know if they could get to a place where they could trust each other enough to continue what they'd started almost three years ago. He had followed her to hell and back and he would still go to the ends of the galaxy for her but… to hell and back again? Right now he couldn't do it but he so desperately wanted to.

For all the speeches he had lined up for just this situation, none of them really conveyed what he felt now that he was faced with saying them. He wished he had the ability to mind-meld like the asari or transfer memories like the prothean so he could show Shepard how he truly felt instead of trying to translate them with inadequate words. She continued before he could formulate a response.

"I understand Horizon, Kaidan, I really do, but I don't understand Mars and I don't understand the Citadel. We've got each other's back now but just weeks ago we pulled guns on each other. I don't trust you with this—" she placed her hand over her heart, "—and I don't think you trust me with yours."

She was right, he just wished she hadn't put it so bluntly.

He opened his mouth when the AI's voice came over the speaker above them.

"Sorry to interrupt, Commander, but we are entering the Tikkun system." The AI actually sounded contrite and Kaidan had to catch himself from thinking uncharitable thoughts about synthetics. "Tali and Admiral Raan are already in the War Room for your pre-mission brief."

"Thank you, EDI." Shepard turned her face back to him. "We're not done yet. Come on, you're going groundside with Tali and me. It's going to be a long day so bring your rations."

"Just like old times."

"Almost." Shepard smiled, small and forlorn, and it almost broke him.

* * *

The Destroyer was down, red eye barely glowing, and Kaidan breathed a sigh of relief. That relief was short-lived when Shepard ordered them to pull over and she jumped down from the turret. Kaidan hit the emergency release for the hovercraft door and it hissed open as she spoke of her intent into the comm unit. He jumped from the hovercraft and grabbed Shepard's arm, head close so they could see through each other's visors.

"Are you insane, Shepard?"

She had that hard look in her eye and Kaidan knew that no amount of persuasion was going to change her mind.

"Kaidan. Go. Now."

Last time she'd uttered those exact words, he'd followed them and she'd died. He would not follow them again. His hand still grasped her arm and he stood immovable. Kaidan was no hand-to-hand specialist, though, and Shepard gripped his thumb, peeling his hand off her arm, and her biotics flared. His barrier instinctively went up but not before she blasted him with a throw field that sent him crashing back through the open door to the hovercraft.

Kaidan lay half-across Tali, dazed but brain registering that the doors were closing and Shepard was turned towards him. Her visor hid her face but he knew the expression on her face would be firm resolve mixed with regret that she had had to use her biotics on him. He scrambled to his feet, listing to the side as he stumbled to the door but it was already closed and he could only bang his fist uselessly against it, emergency release somehow overridden.

"Unlock the door," he said, turning to Legion.

"We are sorry but Shepard-Commander has asked us to retreat."

"Unlock the door!"

It felt like Alchera all over again, stuck in a pod and watching the Normandy go down in flames, not knowing whether Shepard had gotten off the ship in time. He didn't care that Tali and Legion could hear the desperation and pain in his voice. He wanted to go out there and haul Shepard back but the hovercraft was already moving. With a frustrated growl he snatched up Legion's sniper rifle, looking down the sight to where Shepard was aiming the targeting device.

Each shattering cut of the laser through her position made his stomach clench with fear. Each hit to the Destroyer from the orbiting ships made him want to jump for joy but then it would recover and advance on Shepard's position again. What the hell was she thinking, choosing a cliff that didn't have a way for her to escape backwards? The Destroyer loomed over her, canon so close that even Shepard couldn't roll out of the way.

His breathing was ragged, hands clenched so tightly around the gun his joints ached. If he lost her again he'd never forgive himself. He should have known she would pull a dirty trick like using biotics against him but… she would never have used it against him before.

The red eye of the Destroyer glowed, Shepard standing impossibly close with the targeting laser pointed up at it. She stood with the same defiance she had when she spoke to Sovereign. He felt like his legs were about to give out under the weight of his memories and his fear and he leaned heavily against the back of Legion's seat. Tali had come to stand beside him, three-fingered hand on his shoulder, but he barely registered it.

He didn't realise it, but he'd started to chant "no" over and over again under his breath.

Kaidan didn't believe in gods, any of them, but he prayed anyway. He didn't believe in miracles either but surely he was witnessing one. Shots rained down from the sky, the Destroyer staggering under the onslaught, and the breath he'd been holding finally let itself out when it fell to the ground.

The hovercraft made its way back to Shepard and Kaidan jumped out, sprinting toward her. He stopped short as the synthetic voice of the Destroyer boomed across the valley. No matter how much he wanted to take her in his arms and never let go, this was not the time. He watched her navigate the minefield that was a peace agreement between the geth and the quarians, marvelling at her diplomacy. She'd always been persuasive but even Kaidan didn't believe she could bring a three-hundred year war to an end. Hell, he still couldn't believe she'd made peace between the krogan and the turians.

Kaidan had no connection to Legion but even he felt sadness when the geth — who he heard refer to itself in the singular pronoun for the first time — collapsed to its knees in sacrifice. As the other geth walked up, he only had eyes for Shepard. He had always been amazed by her but her standing with the harshly beautiful vista of Rannoch behind her, talking with both quarian and geth, voice steady but tinged with loss… this made him regret every single word that had opened the chasm between them.

It was then that he realised just how wide that chasm was.

The ride through the atmosphere of Rannoch was tense as he gathered the nerve to speak to her. Finally, halfway back to the Normandy, he pulled her aside.

"We need to talk."

"Can it wait?" She turned haunted eyes on him and he almost backed down. Almost.

"No. I nearly lost you for the third time today—"

"Third time?"

"Alchera then Horizon." She gave him a look he didn't understand but he was sure she understood what he meant. "I want to talk to you before EDI decides to interrupt us or you run and hide in your cabin again."

Shepard looked like she was going to protest before she snapped her open mouth shut and dragged him to the other end of the shuttle from Tali and Cortez. Some things never changed and calling her out on running away was one of them.

"So, talk."

Kaidan rubbed his face, put off by her guarded expression and the way she held herself with her arms crossed over her chest and her weight on her back foot. It already seemed like she would run away at the slightest provocation.

"I've always loved you. Even when I tried to move on I still imagined it was you." The confession was surprisingly easy. "The doctor I was seeing started talking about kids one day but when I sat down and imagined them, I saw them with your hair and my eyes, your charisma and my level-headedness. It wasn't fair on her to keep going when I kept regretting that she wasn't you."

Shepard gave him that expression he didn't understand again. "But we don't really know each other anymore, do we?"

No, they didn't, and Kaidan shook his head wordlessly. They stood staring at each other. He didn't know what she was thinking but he was lost in memories of the night before Ilos, harmless adventures when they decided to take some shore leave on Earth, the way they used to work in almost-telepathic tandem in the field…

"I get it, Shepard." He sighed, defeated. "We're not the same kids who went racing after Saren with a 'get out of jail free' card from the Council. If the Reapers weren't here we could work on it but they are and we don't have the time or energy to spare on mending something so broken. Just like it wasn't fair on her, it's not fair on you to hold on."

He reached out to her, finally daring to touch her after weeks aboard the ship. She didn't shy from his touch and he was thankful he'd taken off his gloves. He'd missed the feel of her skin but her cheek was smooth, the little scar that used to be there vanishing with her resurrection.

In one quick motion, Shepard reached out and tugged him to her, her arms tight around his midsection and her face resting against the hard armour of his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and buried his face in her hair. It was sweaty and matted with dirt but it still smelled like her so he didn't care. There would never be another moment like this, where he could hold her and pretend that the last few years had never happened. After this, any embrace would be quick and friendly and, maybe one day, that would be enough for him.

"In another life, Shepard."

"Yeah. But maybe one where our lives are actually normal."

The shuttle doors hissed open after they docked with the Normandy but neither of them noticed.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me."

Kaidan and Shepard both started at the outburst, breaking from their embrace to see Vega turn on his heel and disappear into the open elevator. Shepard was frowning, conflicted look on her face, as if she wanted to follow him but was too scared to. Kaidan didn't think he'd ever seen that look on her face before. Yet another reminder of how she'd changed.

"EDI, track where the Lieutenant is going," said Shepard.

"Lieutenant Vega has entered the men's bathroom, Commander."

Kaidan put a hand on her arm to stop her from getting off the shuttle just yet. "Let him cool off a bit, Shepard, then I've got this."

"He's going to kill you." Shepard gave him a look like she thought he was certifiably insane.

"I'm a Spectre and a biotic. Unless he's got a Cain on him, I'm going to be fine." Shepard still looked doubtful and Kaidan sighed. "If you go after him, all you're going to do is yell at him and pull rank, which doesn't help him vent. He's got personal issues and this one's with me."

Shepard looked like she was going to argue some more but she just sighed. She mumbled something under her breath about knowing she'll regret this and nodded her acquiescence.


	7. Confrontation

The punching bag rocked on its chain, heavy punches and kicks denting the barely-padded body. Sweat poured off James as he glowered at the bag. His bare knuckles were red from the force he was putting behind each punch. Cortez had suggested he put his gloves back on but James growled a negative.

He didn't like being left behind on Shepard's big missions. Picking up the downed Admiral or going to the geth core, yeah, whatever, leave him on the ship, but going into the heart of geth territory? If she'd taken Garrus he could understand being left behind but she'd taken the two squishiest squadmates of the lot, barring Liara.

In the day or so they'd spent orbiting Rannoch, James hadn't seen Shepard since their talk. He wasn't sure if she was actively avoiding him again but he wasn't inclined to see her either after she'd left him multiple times on the ship. She was the one who'd gone on about bringing personal feelings on a mission and he couldn't help thinking that being left out was a personal decision.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't worry about her down there. It was stupid — Shepard was the most capable person on this team — but he couldn't help it. There were so many things he had yet to say to her but he'd kept himself from doing it while she was still wary of starting anything. James was a painfully honest man who owned up to his failures and fears as readily as he did his successes and desires. It had taken a lot of willpower to keep his mouth shut and let her figure herself out.

"Shuttle incoming. Evacuate the cargo bay for decontamination," said EDI.

Finally.

Everyone in the cargo bay piled into the elevator before the bay doors opened and the shuttle entered. They waited while the decon cycle ran.

"You stink," said Cortez, wrinkling up his nose and stepping away from James.

"It's the smell of a real man, Esteban." James shot him an arrogant grin.

Cortez snorted and shook his head in complete skepticism. "Smells more like dirty socks that've been left in a locker for three months."

James laughed. He didn't know how Shepard had done it, but the man spent a lot less time moping and was almost back to his old self.

The decon cycle ended and the elevator doors opened again. Everyone went back to what they were doing but James only got a few steps before the shuttle doors hissed open.

Shepard. Alenko. Hugging. His face in her hair. Her cheek against his chest. Both of them with their eyes closed as if savouring every second with each other's warmth and breath and smell and touch. The tight knot in James' stomach from waiting for her to come back in one piece became a ball of lead. He'd lost her before he'd even had a chance to explain how he really felt.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me."

The outburst was unintended and he didn't even wait for them to break apart before spinning on his heel and re-entering the elevator. He wanted to punch someone. He wanted a drink. He wanted to shoot something in the face over and over again. What he wouldn't give to be back on Omega (the Aria-run version) so he could start a bar fight and just let the bloodlust sing.

Jealousy had reared its ugly head again but it was more than just jealousy. He was hurt and angry and felt really fucking stupid for pushing her in the first place. He'd had his fair share of relationships in the past, most of them not very serious, but when they were he was always the one who came out with guns blazing, so sure of how he felt and completely clueless as to why other people weren't like that. He was all passion and conviction. Latino blood, people always joked.

The elevator opened on the Crew Deck and he stormed toward the Crew Quarters to get his stuff for the shower. Hopefully the water would cleanse him of some of this raw emotion. Donnelly and Daniels said a cheery hello to him from the table in the Crew Quarters; he told them to fuck off.

For once there wasn't anyone in the communal showers. He stripped off his clothes and left them in an untidy pile on the floor, uncaring that people always got angry when anyone left their shit lying around. He'd gladly take on anyone who wanted to bitch at him right now.

What the hell was he thinking going after the Commander anyway? The flirting had been fun and he'd been content to just jerk off in the middle of the night when it got too heated. Why couldn't he just be satisfied with that? He couldn't pinpoint when his feelings had changed but, for him, that transformation had come well before their kiss. It'd been subtle, creeping up on him until one day he'd brought her a book — Tennyson — and she looked like she wanted to cry. Shepard never cried, as far as he knew. Throughout her trial and her isolation from her friends, she'd been strong and composed but one little book and Shepard seemed just as vulnerable as the next person. The realisation that he never wanted to see her hurt hit him like a dreadnought coming out of FTL. Sure, he didn't want to see his friends hurt but this… this felt like more. He couldn't explain it.

James leaned his hands against the wall, head bowed and letting the hot water soothe his muscles and the ache inside that had nothing to do with muscle fatigue. He didn't know how he could feel so miserable about losing what he never really had.

The water automatically shut off when he'd used his allotted reserve. He still felt like shit but he no longer wanted to kill someone. Dressed and determined to lose himself in some work until he got off his shift and could drink himself into oblivion, he left the bathroom only to be confronted with the last person he wanted to see.

"Starboard observation deck." Alenko nodded to the door close by. "Now."

"I don't really feel like talking to you." James' murderous mood was coming back.

"It wasn't a request, Lieutenant, it was an order."

Donnelly and Daniels had just left the Crew Quarters and managed to catch Alenko's line. James flushed in anger and embarrassment. He had a moment of indecision before snapping off a crisp salute. Punishment for insubordination when he thought he was still in the game was worth it. Punishment for insubordination now was definitely not worth it.

In the room, he stood at precise attention: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, stomach in, heels together but toes at a forty-five degree angle, arms fixed at the side with hands balled into fists and the joints of his index finger against the seam of his fatigues. He'd perfected the far-off blank stare during bootcamp and it was supremely easy to recall when he was staring out into space.

Alenko didn't let him stand at ease. Asshole. That's fine. James had spent more than enough time being tortured with the rest of his unit to stand at attention for hours on end. If he could do it in the middle of a chilly autumn downpour, he could do it in a climate-controlled room.

Footsteps echoed through the room and Alenko came to stand before him, still in his dusty and scratched armour from Rannoch. While the bacteria would have been neutralised, someone was going to be pissed when they saw the dirty footprints he was leaving behind. James was pretty sure the deck had just been cleaned, the smell of disinfectant teasing his nose.

"Your unprofessionalism since I came aboard this ship has been disappointing." Alenko stood at ease but even when looking straight out into space, James could see the tension in the Major's neck. "Your service record indicated a capable soldier who generally adhered to military protocol. I've seen none of it."

To say something or to not say something? He didn't want to stand there and get a brow-beating from Alenko but, on the other hand, pride was telling him that sticking to military protocol now would prove Alenko wrong (even just a little bit) and the thought of proving Alenko wrong made James happy. He might not have the best military manners but being a solider was the one thing he'd found himself to be good at, the one thing he'd stuck to for longer than a few months, the one thing that kept him from joining a gang and already being six feet under. To be called a bad soldier was almost like shitting on his madre's grave. Clenching his jaw, he kept his mouth shut.

"Shepard has a charisma which pulls people to her, makes them want to go along with whatever she says… makes them love her. I of all people know that." Was there a hint of bitter melancholy in that tone? "Her tendency for fraternisation aside, she is also a woman of integrity and honour. You gave her an ultimatum—" James couldn't help the small frown and flicker of surprise that danced across his face. How did Alenko know about that? "—and she's working through it. Storming off because she's still sorting out the loose ends of her past is not helping."

What did all that even mean? James didn't like when people tiptoed around issues. He wanted people to get to the point and state things bluntly so he could know exactly what he was dealing with. Tactfulness was for the higher ups and politicians. He continued to stare out into space, listening, and he thought he saw a trace of approval on Alenko's face at James' continued silence. Not that James cared, of course.

"At ease, Lieutenant. Permission to speak."

For a second, James contemplated staying at attention but decided that was stupid. Apart from being uncomfortable, he guessed that Alenko's words were an order and not a friendly suggestion. He placed his hands together at the small of his back and moved his left leg so his legs were shoulder-width apart, his weight evenly distributed between them.

"Can you just hurry up and get to the part where you say you'll kick my ass if I go near her?" His tone was insolent and he looked at Alenko as if watching a decon cycle run was more interesting than talking about Shepard.

He was rewarded with only an annoyed quirk of an eyebrow. "Shepard doesn't need someone to kick your ass for her." That was very true. "Whether you pursue her or not is none of my business."

The words sunk in slowly. The lead ball in his stomach got lighter as realisation dawned on him. He hoped he wasn't interpreting that sentence wrong as elation was starting to grow in him and he didn't know what he'd do if everything came crashing down again.

"So… you're not together?" he asked, tone cautious and expression wary.

"No." A pause. "And I don't know what Shepard sees in you."

Alenko could have just said no and left it at that. James' hands dropped to his sides and he clenched his fists. He was willing to let his want for physical retribution slide since the Major didn't seem to want to get into a fight but that was definitely bait. Alenko's eyes flickered down to James's fists and James was sure he was about to get hit. It never came, though. Instead, Alenko's eyes narrowed and his tone crackled with resentment.

"Don't think what you feel is unique, Vega. You think I don't want to beat the shit out of you too?" The hair on James' arms stood on end as Alenko's biotics flared for a second. He didn't think he'd seen the Major lose his composure like that ever before. "There are less destructive ways to release your aggression. Alternatively, you can shut the hell up and take this opportunity you've been given to man up and let her come to you."

They were on the cusp of a fight. One tiny push and one of them would take a swing. They stood glaring at each other, daring the other to make a move. The air buzzed with the threat of biotics and just when James was sure they were about to fall, it disappeared. He took that as a good sign and clasped his hands behind his back again, returning to standing at rest.

"I trust this pissing competition is over, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir."

Alenko brushed past him to leave. In the reflection of the window, he saw Alenko stop at the door, hand hovering over the button to open it but not pressing it. James turned his head to look at the Major, wondering if he maybe decided to have an all-out brawl with James after all. James was startled to find he no longer wanted to get into a physical confrontation with Alenko.

"She says that it's too girly, but she secretly loves Illium nectar-wine," said Alenko. "A bottle might make up for your behaviour today."

With that, Alenko pressed the button to open the door and left.

A peace offering, or so James thought. Maybe a trick? Was he that vindictive? For all the dislike he felt for Alenko, he didn't think he'd do something so underhand after the speech he'd given. Maybe he'd pick up a bottle... maybe if it was a trick, he could say it was a joke.

* * *

The Citadel took four days to get back to from Rannoch with a stopover at Garvug in the Valhallan Threshold to get some Prothean data drives. James had taken Alenko's advice, leaving Shepard alone for the most part but sheepishly leaving a tray of huevos rancheros outside her door when she didn't show up for breakfast the morning after the Rannoch mission. He didn't know whether she'd been avoiding him or she had actually been sleeping but after that she didn't skip breakfast again.

James stood in the Presidium Commons, frowning as he looked through shop supplies. There were so many Illium nectar-wines. What the hell did he know about alcohol if it wasn't something you could get at any bar in the galaxy? He chose the most expensive one he could afford and the asari shopkeeper complimented him on his taste. He mumbled something about it not being for him before scurrying off with the bottle in hand.

Alenko's talk had been the kick in the balls he'd needed. James didn't know why Shepard allowed him any liberties with her either. He'd lost his cool more than once and if he was dealing with the girls back home then this would be normal. Put next to Alenko's maturity and self-control, James was sure the only thing he had going for him was bigger arms. And maybe a bigger dick, which had its own merits. He didn't deserve her — maybe no one deserved her — but James never was very good at looking at impossible odds and thinking he couldn't overcome them.

Bounding up the stairs, he saw Shepard and skidded to a halt. A turian bumped into him and told him to walk properly. She was leaving Apollo's, faint smile on her lips, and he could see Alenko at a table behind her digging into a steak sandwich. The Major caught his eye before focusing on the bottle in James' hand. He tried not to feel like an idiot at Alenko's smirk. Had the asshole tricked him after all?

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a nectar-wine drinker, James," said Shepard, eyes also on the bottle in his hand. Her tone was crisp with only just a hint of curious joking in it.

"I'm not. It's for you. A peace offering and an apology for everything." He held the bottle out to her. "I was going to give it to you later but… well, you caught me."

Shepard looked supremely embarrassed as she took the bottle and looked over her shoulder at Alenko. James didn't know what look she was giving the Major but he just stared down at his omnitool, pressing buttons as if there was nothing more fascinating in the world right now.

"Thank you. I'll have to tell a certain Major to keep his mouth shut about details of my likes." She smiled up at him, her usual glint of mischief back in her eye. "That's two apologies in a week. You must be sick."

"Lola-itis. I got it bad." Shepard laughed but he could see her barriers come up again in her stance. Right, back off, she was still deciding what the hell to do with him. "We good, Commander?"

"For now, Lieutenant."

With an explanation of needing to meet someone and a light touch to his arm, she walked off. James watched her go and instead of admiring the sway of her hips or noting how good she looked in her dress blues, he wondered when they'd have a moment to themselves again.

Lola-itis. Yeah, he had it bad.


	8. Lessons

Rannoch had taken its toll on all of them. The stop at the Citadel was just as much about restocking and refuelling as it was about letting her crew vent in whatever way they found best. She'd seen Traynor and a few other crew members indulging in some retail therapy in Bachjret Ward. Many were at Purgatory or had come stumbling back to the ship from less cleanly places. Usually she would have frowned upon such behaviour but this time she let it slide. They were out of uniform and, besides, there were worse things to find catharsis in than booze and whores.

They were but hours into their journey to Thessia, having just hit the Citadel relay toward the Athena Nebula. Reports finished and sent to Hackett, she headed down to the Starboard Observation, where EDI had informed her some of the crew were settling their nerves before the Thessia mission. She suspected it had something to with alcohol and, if James were involved, gambling.

She really shouldn't encourage either of those activities on a military ship, and she certainly shouldn't involve herself in them, but if the Alliance were kind enough to leave them a room with a bar and a poker table, then surely it was a sign that the Normandy had the Alliance's blessing to do whatever the hell they wanted.

"Adams will have our ass if we're not on time for our shift," came Gabby's voice from around the corner as Shepard stepped off the elevator.

"In other words, Donnelly is getting some ass before shift starts." Joker's comment was met with laughter.

Shepard rounded the corner in time to hear Ken tell Joker to go fuck himself and see Gabby give everyone in the room a rude gesture. Shepard was inclined to believe Joker's rewording; she'd already caught Ken and Gabby kissing in Engineering once.

"Commander," they both said, saluting as she walked by them, and they turned to leave after she nodded her head at them.

The poker table was stacked with chips, James having so many of them it was likely only a matter of time before everyone else lost their measly piles. Joker had evidently not learnt much from Kaidan's teachings, only having a tiny stack of five-credit chips left to his name. Cortez and Garrus were doing a little better, but not by much. She wondered if James had played Kaidan yet. This would be a good opportunity for James to learn a little humility. James needed quite a few lessons on humility, actually. She sent off a quick message inviting Kaidan down before walking over to the table and taking a seat.

"Deal me in," said Shepard.

"Credits first, Lola. Everyone started with fifty and I'll be happy to take your credits off you too."

"Don't do it, Shepard," said Tali from the bar, where she was sitting with Traynor. "He hustled us out of our credits already."

"I spent six months reading his tells. I'll take my chances." Shepard tapped a few buttons on her omnitool, sending fifty credits into the ship's account. Whoever won simply asked EDI to transfer their winnings back into their personal accounts. "What are we playing?"

"Hold'em." James grinned, usually a sign of an inappropriate remark about to come out of his mouth. "But I think we should change it to strip poker now."

Since the nectar-wine, James had reverted back to his flirtatious ways, even though Shepard was not as risque with her replies.

"I did hear you keep trying to take the shirt off Joker's back." Shepard threw in her ante after everyone else. "It's generally more polite to ask for a date before you undress someone."

"EDI would snap you in half, Jimmy," said Joker.

"There are worse ways of dying than at the hands of a hot robot." James dealt, cards flying across the table and landing neatly atop one another.

"I should inform you, Lieutenant Vega, that it could never work between us despite your repeated admiration of my new body," said EDI as they all peeked at their cards. "Shepard would likely throw a grenade into the AI core in retaliation."

Shepard wished for a Reaper attack as silence blanketed the table. Cortez smirked, looking between Shepard and James before throwing in a five credit chip. Garrus' mandibles flickered in amusement before he grumbled a word in turian that her translator couldn't pick up. He folded. Even James was silent as he chucked in his five credit chip.

"Am I missing something?" asked Joker, looking around the table as he matched Cortez' bet.

"No." Shepard threw in her own five credit chip, having a passable hand of a nine and a king. "The flop, please, Lieutenant."

A nine, a ten and a king of clubs. Joker grimaced; he really did have a bad poker face. Garrus' right mandible was tight against his mouth. After so many years with Garrus, Shepard knew that meant regret — he may well have had a nine and a ten for two pair or two clubs for a flush. Cortez was much better at the game, face unreadable except for the little tick in his jaw. She didn't know what that meant. Yet. She looked up at James, whose face was stuck in what she'd deemed his 'poker smirk'. He did have one tell, though, and he was doing it now. It was tiny and virtually invisible in low light but the skin around his eyes would tighten for a fraction of a second when he decided to try and bluff his way through a hand.

Joker folded and Cortez doubled the minimum bet, which James instantly raised. Shepard already knew James was lying and was trying to intimidate her and Cortez into folding. Cortez, on the other hand, could very well have a jack and a queen to have a straight, which would beat her two pair. Then again, she had two chances for another king or nine, then she'd beat him with a full house. Ah, whatever. It was just a game. She matched the bet and James lay down a four. Useless. Another round of betting where James matched their bets but didn't try to intimidate them into folding again. Shepard had to give it to James, even when he now knew Cortez and Shepard had good hands, he still went down fighting.

The river came and another king showed up. She did a little dance on the inside. When it was Shepard's turn to bet, she dropped twenty credits into the pot.

"I bet five creds Shepard's bluffing," said Joker.

"I'll take that bet." Garrus grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Easiest money I'll ever make."

Cortez looked conflicted after Garrus' words before throwing in the last of his credits. James wisely folded.

Shepard laid her cards out. "Full house. Kings full of nines."

Cortez groaned, leaning back in his chair and throwing his cards into the middle for James to pick up. She was right, he had a straight.

"I'll take your five credits now," said Garrus, holding out his hand to Joker, who slapped his last chip into the turian's palm.

Kaidan walked in just as Shepard was gathering her ample winnings. The greetings from around the room were surprisingly warm. She didn't know whether alcohol had kicked in for the people who were offended by Kaidan's treatment of her on Horizon, or whether Kaidan had actually worked out his differences with her crew. She wouldn't have put it past him to have already talked with each and every one of the people who had problems with him.

Shepard smiled when he looked at her and she kicked a chair out for him in invitation.

"Fifty credits gives you the pleasure of losing to me, Major," said James, despite just losing a chunk of his winnings to Shepard.

There was a bit too much arrogance in the way James leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head and smirk on his lips. Shepard quirked eyebrow at Kaidan, only barely supressing her knowing smile. Kaidan returned the look and then shrugged, sitting.

"I could do with some practice, Lieutenant," said Kaidan, fingers tapping buttons on his omnitool to deposit his credits into the ship's account.

Joker looked at Shepard, grin on his face. Apparently he thought James was going to get his ass handed to him too.

A few hands went by, everyone losing or gaining a bit of money. Shepard would bet what was left of her chips that Kaidan was using the time to read James as he played. Tali and Traynor had migrated to the poker table in the last hand, watching with interest. No doubt Tali had told Traynor about Kaidan's poker skills and they were now waiting for James' comeuppance.

Garrus and Shepard folded after looking at their cards, leaving just Kaidan and James. Shepard was sure Kaidan's poker face had gotten even better than it already was, or perhaps that was because she found it so much more difficult to read him these days. She did, however, recognise the rather obvious clench of his jaw when an ace showed up on the turn. The probability of a straight with the cards that had shown up in the flop was suddenly much greater. She saw James notice the look too and she looked at Joker, who winked at her. They might not be able to read Kaidan's real tells very well, but they knew when he was putting them on.

Kaidan bet thirty and James matched it. He must have something good as Shepard couldn't see any signs that he was bluffing. Another ace showed up on the river and triumph flared up in Kaidan's eyes. Shepard almost rolled her eyes at how obvious it was. Kaidan bet just ten credits but that was all James had left in his pile by now anyway. She was willing to bet that Kaidan had nothing and that James was not used to being tricked in what he perceived to be his own game. James hesitated, looking at his cards again, before folding and watching the majority of his credits migrate across the table.

James picked up Kaidan's face-down cards then made a big show about accidentally dropping them so they'd land face up. Kaidan had nothing apart from the pair of aces already on the table. Everyone erupted into laughter at the look of pure murder on James' face.

"Thanks for the invite, Shepard," said Kaidan as he stood. He didn't even try to hide his smugness and Shepard simply grinned at him.

"You're welcome, Kaidan. Your presence was very educational for the Lieutenant."

Kaidan nodded his goodbye before leaving, asking EDI to release his winnings to his account as he walked out the room.

"You hustled me, Lola," said James, voice part hurt and part admiring.

"Payback, on behalf of my crew."

"I better be going groundside after this," said James as he stood and walked off to the bar, grumbling about superior officers always teaching him lessons the hard way.

Shepard watched him go, still smiling. He'd taken the humiliation better than she'd expected. He'd taken a lot of things better than she would have expected over the week or so since Kaidan had spoken to James. She didn't know what they'd said but surely she owed Kaidan another bottle of Peruvian whiskey for diffusing a volatile situation. Hell, maybe she owed Kaidan two bottles since James was showing more maturity in the past week than he had in the months prior.

"Put your tongue away, Commander," Cortez said in her ear and she tore her gaze from James to glare at the pilot. She was not drooling.

* * *

The poker game felt like years ago instead of just two days. What peace that had settled over her crew after they left the Citadel was surely shattered now. Thessia was worse than what the asari councillor had let on. They'd encountered banshees for the first time; bloated, elongated, huskified asari — all their beauty and grace gone but their power left behind.

It was Earth all over again. All Shepard could do was watch as Reapers descended from the Thessian sky and listen to the screams of asari commando's echoing in her earpiece. Leng's gunship disappeared into the clouds. Liara placed a hand on her shoulder and Shepard shrugged it off, chest heaving with anger and defeat as she turned on her heel and radioed for pick up.

Walking over to James, she dropped to one knee. She didn't turn off her comm unit as she unclipped medical supplies from her utility belt. Asari voices cried out for salvation, for the Goddess, for Shepard. She would remember each and every one of those voices, a reminder of all the people she couldn't save because she was too focused on saving this one person.

"That fucker stabbed me," said James, hand pressed tight against the wound in his thigh. He seemed more annoyed than in pain. The medical interface in his suit had probably pumped him full of anaesthetic already. "When we catch up with him, I'm going to stab him. See how he likes it."

"Shut up, Lieutenant. Just… shut up."

James looked taken aback. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again. She regretted being so terse with him but she was angry — at Leng, at the Reapers and at herself.

It wasn't James' fault he'd been pinned down by the gunship, or that Leng had cloaked and everyone had lost visual, or that he'd fended off Leng's attack to the chest but ended up getting it in his thigh. It wasn't his fault Shepard had popped out of cover to put a barrier around James to prevent Leng from finishing him off, which meant Liara had to focus on keeping a barrier up around Shepard so the gunship didn't take her down. Leng had taken advantage of her weakness for her squad (rather, for one member of it in particular) and she had lost.

Wound dressed well enough until they got to the ship, she moved to check over his ribs. He stopped her hands, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, Lola." James bobbed his head toward Liara, who was standing at the doorway still watching the Reapers descend. "No pain when I breathe so it can wait until the shuttle. Doc is getting to know first-hand what it's like to see your homeworld fall. You can put your hands all over me later."

Shepard looked down at her hands still held in his then pulled them away when the hand-holding went on a little too long. She frowned at him for his inappropriate jokes when he was injured. Standard operating procedure dictated wounded members be attended to… but nothing about this was standard. She gave him a hard look to make sure he wasn't lying about his pain level before nodding and standing to walk to Liara. She felt bad for shrugging off Liara's hand earlier and touched Liara's arm. The asari turned haunted eyes red with tears toward her.

"I feel like I'm betraying my people by running away, Shepard."

"I know, Liara, but you are not running away. We're going to catch Leng and get that data bac—"

"You chose to protect him over protecting the data," said Liara, anger flaring up as she gestured at James checking the damage done to his chestpiece.

"I would have done the same if it was you Leng had gone after," said Shepard, voice soft to try and calm her friend. "I can retrieve data. I can't resurrect someone."

For a second, Shepard thought Liara was going to continue. Unlike with James' outburst when they first left Earth, Shepard would have let Liara take out her frustration and anguish upon her. You couldn't just yell Liara into submission like you could a soldier.

"I'm sorry." Liara deflated, looking down at the floor and rubbing at her eyes. "I know you would."

Liara leaned against Shepard's shoulder and Shepard put an arm around her. The asari's body shook with silent sobs and Shepard hugged her tighter, turning them away from the scene of Reapers destroying Thessia.

Shepard felt guilt at her words. They were a lie. She had instinctively chosen to protect a squadmate but, just like Virmire, she had made the decision based on affection rather than cold calculation. While she had no doubt she would have protected any of her team, the fear she felt at possibly losing them surely would not have been as acute as when she saw James, dazed and injured, with Leng ready to finish him off.

Their relationship was still in limbo and evidently that was far worse for her focus than if she simply settled whatever it was between them. As the shuttle arrived at their location, she resolved that one way or another, James would finally get his answer when they returned to the ship.


	9. Beginnings

James grimaced as he craned his neck to watch Chakwas inject some sort of antibiotic cocktail into his cleaned wound.

"This does not hurt, Lieutenant." Chakwas put the needle aside and started to set up the instrument that would do the fine internal suturing for the front of James' stab wound, the exit wound already fixed up. "You've got too much anaesthetic from the last set of sutures for you to feel anything."

"I can imagine it hurts if I want to." James tried not to pout.

"You can sit through multiple tattoos yet you cannot sit through an injection — which you can't even feel — without squirming like a child." The look she gave him was exactly the same one his abuela used to give him when she found him tracking muddy shoeprints into the house.

James mumbled something about not being a child and let his head drop back against the operating table. He stared up at the ceiling as the machine sewed the muscle back together where the sword had gone through it. The medi-gel had done its job to keep him from bleeding out but it couldn't magically heal such a serious wound. He was lucky the sword (who the fuck used a sword these days anyway?) didn't hit anything major but the nerve and muscle damage were apparently extensive.

Getting patched up always felt weird. He knew what was going on should hurt but he couldn't feel anything. The machine going about its business just felt like someone prodding him with their finger. It was such an odd sensation that he felt the urge to check what was going on — except he'd learnt long ago that while he didn't mind seeing someone else's insides, he didn't like seeing his own.

"Muscle sutures are done," said Chakwas as she monitored the machine's progress. "We'll have to do another set of sutures between the muscle and the skin before we can fully close it."

"If I'm going to be here a while, can I have some of that expensive brandy I saw you sharing with the Commander?" James grinned at her and she gave him a deadpan look in return.

James sighed and let her get on with her work in silence. He wanted to chatter on about nothing in particular, except that his chattering was usually smattered with all sorts of swearing and inappropriate observations. Chakwas kind of reminded him of his abuela, though, and he had never sworn in front of his abuela. In fact, he was sure she was convinced James didn't swear, drink, have sex, gamble or smoke all the way up until the day she died.

It was probably a good thing she didn't live to see the Reapers invade. He had faith his uncle had joined the resistance, he even had faith his alcoholic father had managed to weasel his way into some refugee camp, but he couldn't believe she'd live through this. The supplies were too short to help the elderly, the mental shock too great for someone so set in her ways. She'd had a hard enough time coming to terms with the fact that there were sentient beings apart from humans who had already been colonising the galaxy for centuries. No, she was better off dead. Hell, maybe she had the best deal out of his entire family.

The machine dropped the needle it was working with into a little water-filled bowl, a tiny tendril of blood dispersing in the liquid. The machine retracted its arm, folding away neatly out of the way again so Chakwas could inspect the stitches before wrapping everything up.

"You'll have a scar but nothing hideous," she said as she applied the waterproof dressing.

"Damn. Here I was thinking it'd get me some hot krogan ladies. Eve told me they like scars."

"Commander Shepard did mention that you received a breeding request while on Tuchanka." A smile tugged at Chakwas' usually serious lips.

"Deal breaker." James shook his head and sighed as if there was nothing he regretted more than turning down sex with a krogan. "Don't want kids right now."

Chakwas levelled a raised eyebrow at him. "Keep putting yourself in the line of fire, Lieutenant, and maybe someone will stab a testicle instead and children will no longer be an option at all."

James looked horrified, not so much at the thought that someone could manage to get through all the protection he put around his junk, but that she'd said the word "testicle". He didn't want to hear her say that again. Or any other word pertaining to sexual organs.

"Please don't say testicle. It's like my abuela saying testicle."

"I'm sure your grandmother had sex at some point and knows what a testicle is."

"Lies!" James glared at her and covered his ears, humming an inane song while Chakwas shook her head and chuckled.

Chakwas looked away and said something. James dropped his hands and realised that while humming Shepard had come in. She had a look on bemusement on her face and he just smiled at her like he hadn't looked like an idiot.

"Lola."

"James." James' eyebrows shot up at her use of his name. She always greeted him by his rank, regardless of whether she was coming around for a social call or for business. "Doctor Chakwas tells me you're out of commission for a while."

"Two weeks." James grimaced. "The war will be over by then."

"You'll have to injure someone else in the meantime, Shepard," said Chakwas before making her excuses and leaving.

Shepard smiled after the doctor but it was tinged with a bit of… sadness? Regret? James didn't know all the nuances of her expressions yet. He did know that even though Shepard acknowledged that they were all soldiers and soldiers got injured, she hated that her crew didn't always walk away with just minor bruises and scratches. Hell, sometimes they didn't walk away at all, but she didn't like to talk about that.

"We need to talk," said Shepard, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Worst four words in the entire English language.

"Okay," he said, drawing out the word in trepidation.

"I chose you over the data today," said Shepard, holding his gaze. It made his mildly uncomfortable to be under such heavy observation. "I told Liara I could retrieve data but I couldn't resurrect someone. It seemed like a rational, calculated decision but it wasn't my initial thought. We're in a war against impossible odds and I should have chosen the data."

Her words were halting, coming out in short bursts. It was that night weeks ago again, when she'd told him to give her time to sort her thoughts out. Just like then, she chose her words carefully, her appearance guarded and keeping a respectful distance from him. Although she'd just indirectly admitted to putting her feelings before a mission, he still couldn't be sure how this conversation was going to go. Getting stabbed and that final nail in the coffin of his hopes of starting something with Shepard? That would be just fucking great.

"But that's not my biggest issue," said Shepard, sighing, and she rubbed her hand across her face. She seemed nervous, which was a ridiculous thought as Shepard never looked nervous. "This is war and people die. I've seen what the person who gets left behind has to go through and I don't want to do that to someone again."

That was her problem? Hah!

"If that's your biggest worry, Lola, then it's already too late. I'd go loco if you died." He reached out for her and she looked down at his hand, hesitating before putting her hand in his. He smiled, relieved she accepted the small show of intimacy. "You don't just push me to be better, Shepard; you make me want to be better. A better soldier, a better member of this team… a better person. What I can't figure out is why you bother with me. Apart from my hot body, that is."

Shepard snorted, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She stepped forward and he thought she might bend down and kiss him. That'd be awesome. But she didn't. She perched herself on the edge of his bed, putting herself at eyelevel with him.

"You helped me keep my sanity after I was grounded. You still help me keep my sanity." Her smile this time was melancholy. "Everyone here has lost someone. Every word, every expression, every line of their body is tinged with sorrow. You refuse to succumb to that though. You have this unshakable faith that things will turn out for the best. I can go to anyone here and ask for a reality check, but you're the one I go to when even I start to lose hope."

Wow. That… wow. He really had convinced himself that her attraction to him was merely physical and she didn't want to jeopardise either their friendship or their working relationship, that's why she'd taken so damn long to get back to him. He knew he provided some distraction for her but in his wildest dreams he didn't think she'd put so much stock in whatever time they spent together.

"So… we should go for dinner on the Citadel."

Shepard's eyebrow quirked and humour came into her voice again. "Are you asking me on a date, Lieutenant?"

"Well, you once said that it's the usual thing to take someone on a date before trying to get into their pants," said James with a casual shrug. He realised just how flippant that sounded. He didn't want to seem like her words didn't mean anything to him. "But even if I don't get into your pants, I'm still going to take you out."

If James was a romantic, he would describe her smile as having the soothing warmth of a sun bursting out from behind oppressive clouds. Ah, who was he kidding? He was a massive romantic and even though he wouldn't exactly say such stupid, sappy things (he was a Man, after all), he was happy to think them.

"We'll just have to wait and see how well you do on that date," said Shepard.

A brief silence fell between them, where they sat there smiling at each other like idiots. James thought he was a damn lucky idiot, though, and that made him want to smile even more. Hell, he even wanted to tell her that he felt that way.

"Lola—"

Shepard leaned in and silenced him with a kiss. This one was different. It didn't have the awkwardness of their first kiss during their sparring. It didn't have the angry heat of their second kiss in the elevator. Most importantly, it was Shepard initiating.

That flowery smell he remembered from their first kiss was stronger now that she wasn't covered by sweat or the grime from a mission. For the rest of his life, he'd remember this moment, where she tasted like peppermint and her shower-damp hair clung to his fingers and his chest felt tight and wanted to explode all the same time. People always said that your life flashed before your eyes before you died, but when he finally died he hoped that this moment was the one that he'd relive over and over again.

When she pulled away they were both breathing heavily and she had that look in her eyes that he remembered from their other kisses. Oh, yeah, she wanted him. He tried not to be a dick and flex his muscles.

Commotion from the other side of the window behind Shepard demanded his attention and he looked behind her. James burst out laughing, completely ruining the mood, and Shepard frowned at him. He gestured behind her. Through the window, Joker was standing up mimicking something vulgar with his hips and Cortez was next to Joker with both thumbs up and a massive grin on his face. A handful of the rest of the crew were around too but they were mostly either laughing at Joker or hollering things that couldn't be heard from within the medbay. That was probably a good thing.

"So… we really doing this, Lola?" he asked and Shepard turned back to him.

"Yeah, James." Shepard leaned in to plant a light kiss on his lips. She pulled away only enough that she wasn't a blurry blob. "We're doing this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we all know how this ends considering the endings available in ME3 but I like happy endings better ;) Thanks for taking the time read my little romp with Shepard and Vega! 
> 
> <3 Minque


End file.
